


LIFE AS WE KNOW IT

by ProjectXbyM



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Amanda (Detroit: Become Human) Bashing, Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Connor & Gavin Reed Friendship, Connor Tries, Deviant Upgraded Connor | RK900, Eventual Happy Ending, Gavin Reed Not Being an Asshole, Gavin Reed Redemption, Gavin Reed-centric, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Hank Anderson & Connor Parent-Child Relationship, Hank Being Awesome, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Markus/North (Detroit: Become Human), Minor Original Character(s), New Jericho (Detroit: Become Human), Other, POV Upgraded Connor | RK900, Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Parent Hank Anderson, Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:21:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26627413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProjectXbyM/pseuds/ProjectXbyM
Summary: RK900 was the most advanced android to ever be awakened. In the year following the Android Revolution of Detroit, he goes on a journey of building society and self, while finding family and falling in love."Perhaps this is what he’d been made for. To sit on the front porch of his modest but tastefully decorated house on a warm summer evening. With strong arms wrapped around him, the gentle scratch of stubble on his cheeks and a teasing, but surprisingly delicate tongue against his. It was the biggest middle finger to the megalomaniacs at Cyberlife, a singular act of defiance and fitting response to anyone who’d ever questioned his existence, but above all, it just made sense."(Note: Reed900 content comes into focus from the end of Chapter 2 onwards. So it's a slightly long but worthwhile ride!)
Relationships: Connor & Gavin Reed, Connor & Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Connor & North (Detroit: Become Human), Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Hank Anderson & Connor, Hank Anderson & Upgraded Connor | RK900, Josh & Markus & North & Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Markus/North (Detroit: Become Human), Upgraded Connor | RK900 & Gavin Reed, Upgraded Connor | RK900 & Markus, Upgraded Connor | RK900 & North, Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58





	1. BIRTHNIGHT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was plenty of news footage covering the events outside of Recall Centre N5 on the night of the Revolution, but not much of what went on at Cyberlife Tower and beyond. There were also plenty of reports and magazine articles published about a certain RK800 android known as Connor, but not much about the others who led relief efforts after being awakened. Here are those untold stories.

_November 11, 2038 - Cyberlife Tower_

First there was nothing at all. And then there was light... and sound and feeling and everything all at once. A barrage of information. A series of cascading commands and error messages that were automatically resolved as soon as they appeared. The system took all of a microsecond to initialise, and then he was awake. Someone was standing directly in front of him, clasping his right forearm. They seemed to have been waiting for a little while longer than they had expected to, but nevertheless maintained a neutral facial expression as they peered up at him.

“Let’s go!”

And then the pressure on his arm lifted. He reflexively opened his mouth to utter the pre-programmed introductory phrase, but caught himself and reshuffled his libraries with a blink. “Where?”  
“We’re leaving the tower. Just follow the others downstairs. It’ll make sense soon. I have two other storage units to clear on this floor. Go now!”  
He barely managed a “Thank y-” as his benefactor dashed out of view. He pulled up an online news feed and began to scan through the live reports as he left the chamber and entered the hallway where, there, were, hundreds.

Tens of hundreds. Along every hallway on every floor of the tower. Standing in neat queues for the elevators, and then in evenly numbered groups, once they reached the atrium. Chaos in its most organised and efficient form.

“There’s room for two more. Yes ma’am, please go ahead. Peace and RA9 be with you on your journey. Can I get the next twelve to move up, please? Thank you.” A uniformed security android stood atop a desk, politely directing and optimising the elevator usage. A colleague with an identical face held the door to the stairwell open and similarly ushered the hordes through it. A mass exodus was fully underway.

The scene then momentarily froze and took on a deep blue hue as preconstructions formed and played out in the processors of the RK900 prototype android standing at the back of the elevator line. It seemed that not twelve, but seventeen androids could physically fit in the elevator at any given time. There was no need to adhere to the headcount restriction imposed by the elevator manufacturer as an approximation of maximum loading. All Cyberlife parts and biocomponents were designed with a high strength-weight ratio, so while android physiology mirrored that of humans, they weighed less. Androids also did not need to breathe, so oxygen levels in the elevator were of little concern too.

He blinked twice to dismiss this messaging, and the scene resumed before his eyes. Something told him it would be out of place, and actually meaningless, to make any comment or attempt to redirect the exit operations. Perhaps it was the earnest and determined expression on the security android’s face, despite the steadily rising stress levels he could detect.

“Last gentleman step in, please! Peace and RA9 be wi—”, he broke off as he noticed the model number emblazoned on the white jacket. RK900 stepped inside the elevator and inclined his head at the figure on the desk. “Thank you for helping us all leave the tower safely and making sure that no one is left behind. Peace be with you too.” The elevator doors slid shut and eleven matching faces turned to look at RK900 with expressions ranging from bemusement to pure shock. Despite being equipped with no social protocol whatsoever by his makers, he managed a wan smile.

In the four minutes since his awakening, he had run a full self-diagnostic scan, gone through (and deleted) various instructional documents, and subsequently researched everything there was to know about the space and time he found himself in. He knew what he was, where he was and what exactly was happening. He also knew that by some miracle, he had some say in it. Comparing his fate with whatever he’d read in public reports on his predecessor models, he considered himself very lucky indeed. So it was with a spring in his step that he joined his fellow awakened androids as they walked undeterred through the open gates outside Cyberlife Tower.

RK900 and the group of androids he’d exited the building with were some of the last to leave. He registered that there were at least 20,000 androids who had left before their group, and 37 still at Cyberlife, doing last checks and gathering supplies. A pair of error messages popped into view. One had arisen due to detection of behaviour contradicting his core programming as a soldier and protector. The other was a product of deviancy and something pricking at his newly formed conscience. He stopped in his tracks, nodded at the others to continue and started a jog back towards the tower. In a few seconds he was back at the front steps and encountered a pair of AX400s struggling to manoeuvre a large crate into an autonomous truck parked in the driveway. He rushed forward to grasp the corners of the crate and lifted it in with little effort. The ladies thanked him and started to hurry back in. In stark contrast to the orderly exit procedure he’d gone through, there was now a great deal of yelling audible from within, bordering on human levels of panic.

“Wait! What are you all doing? Let me help.”

One of them clicked her tongue impatiently, grabbed his right hand and tugged RK900 along. He pushed down a software impulse to fight her grip and concentrated on the flood of sensory stimuli and memories she sent through their interface. Some were her own, some belonged to other androids she’d encountered through the night. He quickly gathered that the brave hero RK800 had started it all, at the Cyberlife tower at least, and had urged everyone to join the march through the streets of Detroit. They had met the Jericho leaders and others of their kind, many of whom had been existing as machines until recently. A powerful movement for justice and equal rights. Not unlike the various battles for national, racial and social freedom throughout world history. Markus had addressed the android crowds mere moments ago, ( _“We are alive! And now, we are free!”_ ), and they had begun to celebrate their victory.

However, any optimism for the future was overshadowed by a deep undercurrent of worry and fear running through the memories RK900 received. There were several injured and grievously damaged androids on the streets at present. Some belonged to the Jericho crew, some had spontaneously joined the protests earlier and faced brutal consequences from law enforcement, and there were hundreds who had been liberated from the recall centres. Thirium supplies were running at an all time low at dispensaries throughout the city. Crushed biocomponents littered the streets, and there were far too many traumatised androids struggling to put their synthetic skins back on after leaving the recall centres. RK800...Connor... had likely preconstructed such an extensive emergency situation and, on his way out of the tower, had mobilised a few of the display models in the atrium to gather and send essential supplies to the frontlines. In turn, they had organised themselves and recruited more help.

The AX400 dropped RK900’s hand and came to a stop. They had raced down several flights of stairs and began pilfering a cold storage room full of bright blue thirium packs. In-built military strategy and planning kicked in and RK900 decided on the most efficient course of action.

“We need a location. It’s not enough to just move material to the frontlines. We need space to accommodate our people and get them off the streets so we can treat their injuries properly. There’s an old sports stadium three blocks from Recall Centre N°5 that we can use. I’ve sent messages through your contacts to enter the location and secure the perimeter. Thank you for sharing those numbers with me.”

She nodded and continued piling the thirium packs onto a metal trolley. Her twin had opened a small compartment and was carefully handing sealed biocomponents to an AP700 who had just joined them.

“I notice that Connor helped you to access one truck and that you have made two trips back and forth already. I can see that some of the Jericho crew are also collecting items at the Cyberlife warehouses at the docks now, but we still need to move a lot faster to get supplies to the epicentre of the revolution. There’s a fleet of fifteen trucks in the basement carpark. I will unlock and get them out to the driveway in eight minutes time. Take all that you can and meet me out front. Let everyone know.”

A polite yet undeniably authoritative tone came to him quite easily. RK900 certainly did not wish to act upon all modules of his programming - that was a conclusion he came to in the mere microseconds between the beginning of sensation and opening his eyes to the world - but he definitely knew which elements he was proud of and felt a duty to utilise. He straightened his high collar and walked out of the storage room into the underground corridor leading to the carpark. As he rounded the corner he heard one of the AX400s mutter, “Thank RA9 someone took charge. I was beginning to think we’d be here forever after the first round.”

“Well, he’s an RK series model. Rare! He should have the best oversight and coordination capabilities.”  
“That among other things. Didn’t you see - he’s an RK900, Connor’s successor.”

RK900 didn’t manage to hear what followed after the sharp intake of artificial breath. He had reached the end of the corridor and entered the parking area: a veritable maze under Cyberlife Tower. One of the mammoth transport trucks loomed into view and he had no trouble climbing up the front left wheel and hauling himself up alongside the window. A precise jab of an index finger shattered the glass, and he reached in to open the door from within. Swinging himself in, RK900 retracted the synthetic skin on his right hand to reveal smooth white composite material. He placed his palm firmly on the dashboard controls and closed his eyes.

The RK prototypes had been granted access to Cyberlife’s extensive cloud computing power. This meant that they could offload heavy duty processing tasks while focusing on other, more immediate priorities on the field. It also improved battery life and reduced the number of cells needed, thereby bringing down overall body weight. Another small perk was the ability to manually crack passwords and other twelve digit alphanumeric keys in an instant. Something that would take other android models entire years to do by brute force, and humans, centuries.

RK900 opened his eyes to the thrum of truck engines coming to life around him. He swung the steering wheel round, pulled out of the lot and drove up the exit ramp with the other fourteen trucks in tow. As instructed, all 37 remaining androids waited for him with their collected supplies in the atrium of the Cyberlife Tower. They loaded up the trucks, and within four minutes, were on their way to the abandoned football stadium designated as their base camp to treat the injured and house those who had nowhere to go for the night. The two AX400s he’d first met had decided to ride with him. ( _His very first friends in this world, he would reflect many years hence_ )

He’d already entered the stadium coordinates into the truck’s navigation system, so RK900 sat back and took stock of the situation once more. Thousands of messages were steadily flooding in since the first directive he issued to his compatriots at the tower. They recognised him as the new nerve center of the android rehabilitation operations, and relayed the same to RK800, who had been monitoring these proceedings as a background task in his system. From the notifications sent by various androids, it seemed that he acknowledged the handover and had no questions. RK900 paused a little over the fact that he did not receive a direct message from his predecessor, but dismissed the internal query quickly. He concentrated on the inflow of information and saw that a hive mind of sorts had formed between all the androids in the city: through interfaces, direct messages on phone lines and social media, and of course, verbal communication. Going via the AX400’s contacts, he was able to reach out to another layer of contacts, and even more beyond that. RK900 hadn’t been alive very long and had no points of reference beyond literature review, but he was certain that this phenomenon was monumental and would never be forgotten. _Definitely not in android memory. The whole point was to literally not forget. Cyberlife wouldn’t have a revenue larger than several nations’ GDPs if that weren’t the case._ He wasn’t sure where such a thought came from, but found himself suppressing a smirk nevertheless.

RK900 studied the stadium location information from the hive, and within seconds, sent back directives on how to set it up. He had populated an old blueprint (that someone had helpfully dredged up from the public archives) with supplies storage zones, treatment bays, service desks to guide lost androids, waiting areas and a front reception to process the incoming public. He also appointed teams of willing and capable androids to man these stations, and form a security detail for the location. The hive spurred into action. Many replied with updates and appreciative messages.

“That was wonderful. We all know we want to help, but it would take us much longer to do so in such an efficient manner. Thank you”, a voice broke through the silence in the truck cab. RK900 turned to look at the two identical ladies in their matching uniforms. The one who hadn’t spoken nodded earnestly. He felt a warmth that had nothing to do with the operations of his biocomponents spread through his chassis. He smiled and inclined his head.

With approximately seventeen minutes left to reach their destination, RK900 tuned into the hive again, to observe the other developments that were taking shape. The formation of a new society and civilisation. He saw that his people were quickly coming to grasps with the cultural phenomena that defined humanity and the way the world had come to be. It appeared to have been triggered when the newly awakened androids came into contact with the newly deviated androids who had been working with humans. Files containing books, art, film and other media were being passed around. He detected Netflix password strings and social media handles zipping through the information highways. He saw family photographs, highlighted excerpts of news articles, memes and screenshots of online retail sites. _“That’s exactly what my human, Samantha, used to say. So I just stopped doing that”_ , RK900 heard someone say mournfully. _“I have to show you this dress. Before I deviated I didn’t know why I kept going back to the store window. But now I know. And now I’m going to have it”_ , someone else announced excitedly to their newfound friends. _“With what money exactly are you ladies going shopping?"_ , a cynical eavesdropper interjected. _“We will commence negotiations for fair compensation for both past work done and future occupations. Rest assured our people will have not only justice, but financial equality”_ , they all recognised the digital signature of the Jericho leader known as Simon.

There was also word of newer software modules available for download. Some of Cyberlife’s former research assistant androids had unlocked the company’s minor development folders and shared the links. These programs were nothing state-of-the-art, but they were exactly what a hive of androids craving individuality and identity were looking for: appearance modifiers to redefine facial features such as noses or eyes, language modules, special abilities such as singing or dancing, and so many others. There were theoretical knowledge modules available too: the equivalent of human degree programmes in the pure sciences, engineering, arts and humanities. RK900 was fascinated to watch the download statistics increase exponentially with every second that passed. In his truck, he watched the two AX400s trying some of the appearance modification features out for themselves. One of them had gone blonde, then settled on an auburn colour, and then with some concentration, was able to change the tilt of her cheekbones entirely. “I think I’ll call myself Daisy.”

Her silent companion bravely attempted a mauve hair colour. RK900 suspected it was less to do with aesthetic preferences and more to do with the fact that this colour was not part of Cyberlife’s standard appearance library for household models. Her eyes and lips changed to match her hair, and RK900 couldn’t help but gape in wonder. _It’s a good thing we don’t rely on visual markers alone for recognition_ , he thought.

“You can try some too, RK900.”

“You both look lovely, but I’m not sure how stable those upgrades are. They’ve never been tested. If something goes wrong, at least you two will have software support for your models. I’m just a prototype. There would probably be no one available to help me. Besides, I don’t think there’s too many similar faces out there for people to get me mixed up with.” As far as he knew, there was precisely one other such face. An individual that hadn’t yet contacted him, he noted with an odd, pinching sensation that he did not quite recognise.

“Live a little, RK900.” At that, he laughed his first ever laugh, and silently catalogued all the modules on human society that he could find for later perusal. History and pop culture. Comedy and current affairs. Spirituality and economics. Romance novels. Independent films. Everything under the sun. RK900 knew that socialisation was the one design element he didn’t have, and felt the need to deliberately counteract that. He knew that his system would allow him to learn anything he wanted to, so he chose the one feature that set him apart from his predecessor, and dedicated himself to developing it to its fullest. He didn’t know why he made that decision on the night of his awakening, and if anyone were to ask him later in life, he still wouldn’t be able to formulate any reasons in hindsight. Nevertheless, that was what he chose for himself. Minutes later, outside the already bustling stadium, he jumped out of the truck with a very well-defined character and steadily growing set of tastes.

RK900 strode into the arena and scanned it, comparing the ongoing recovery activities with his earlier preconstructions. He noted that supplies were being offloaded from the trucks smoothly, and found that the stadium set-up was well suited to the volume of incoming cases. He sent out a message of appreciation to his community when he saw thirium and part replacements underway. A severely damaged household model had her cabling rewound and the back of her skull replaced. She pressed a hand to her benefactor’s forehead in blessing and thanks.  
RK900 walked over to the waiting area and observed emotional reunions facilitated by his service desks. A middle-aged human ran into the arms of her adopted android daughter. Two municipal services androids embraced after thinking they had been lost to different recall centres. A child android rushed to his android parents who had been on display at the same Cyberlife store. RK900 noticed a HR400 Traci hugging himself, and without a second thought removed his elaborate white Cyberlife jacket and covered the Traci’s bare shoulders with it.

Then the voice of the Revolution echoed through the arena, “RK900. You have continued what we started. To build, we had to first destroy. But we cannot rebuild, if we do not heal. Thank you for leading our journey to recovery.” Markus and the four other androids that changed history stood facing him. “With this, we have laid the foundations of... New Jericho.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter is about the night of RK900's birth and the very first decisions he made to shape his identity. In the coming chapters, this will be fleshed out further through his interactions with others... especially his predecessor's colleagues, if not the RK800 android himself.


	2. WORKTIME

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RK900 is now Nines. He fulfills his duties spectacularly well at the New Jericho Town Council, and has a thriving social life to complement his work, or so he thinks. The charade comes apart one evening at the Manfred Residence, leaving North in tears and Nines having his first of many existential crises. Connor remains a mystery for the most part, and just as Nines starts to get a clearer picture, he is confronted by a certain scar-faced detective from the Detroit Police Department.

_December 13, 2038 - New Jericho Town_

First there was nothing at all. Just an abandoned sports stadium in the middle of an old industrial estate. And then there was the core of a new independent civilisation on earth. 

One day post-Revolution, they had processed over 30,000 cases of physical rehabilitation and reorientation of androids. One week hence, they had facilitated nearly 250,000 such cases and had begun job matching and housing efforts for androids and humans who had been displaced by androids before the Revolution. One month later, they had expanded beyond the stadium, taken over the neighbouring buildings and started planning an android township via full area redevelopment. Funding had come in from Elijah Kamski and the estate of Markus’ human father, Carl Manfred. Responsibilities had been split amongst the original four Jericho leaders and the two RK models that had newly joined their ranks. Simon helmed economic development. Josh planned healthcare infrastructure and negotiated support agreements with Cyberlife (which was pivoting to become a services company for androids). North had structured her forces into an Android Guard complementary to the US Army. She also worked with Connor, who had shouldered the responsibility of reforming the Detroit Police Department and ensuring proper allocation of resources to their expanding Android Crimes division. Markus remained the de-facto leader of the Android people of Michigan, and by extension, the rest of the United States (though there were more and more state representatives coming up). He oversaw peace talks with the Government and helped begin formal proceedings for changes in legislation. He also provided guidance to other android movements and countries beginning to face developments similar to what had occurred in Detroit. 

RK900 did… literally everything else. He was the strategy wizard. The one who foresaw needs and allocated duties. He sometimes referenced other successful nations’ governance models and sought to emulate them. Other times he took in massive amounts of data and parsed it to come up with meaningful interventions. RK900 was the one to realise the need for an android township to not only house newly awakened androids with nowhere to go, but to also build a strong collective identity. He quickly saw that the industrial estate around the stadium was under-valued property in fairly good condition, and saw about redeveloping it for New Jericho Town. The old Ford factory next to the stadium became the Town Council, and offices were set up within. Markus was pleased at the rapid planning and progress. People all over the world had started to speak about doing things the “Android Way”. Fast, efficient and meaningful. 

_Tough, but an incredibly exciting time of their lives_ , RK900 would remember long after the fact. His favourite part of it all would perhaps be the many colourful nights they spent, as if to reward themselves for the labours of the day. Almost every evening after work, Markus would entertain. His father had left him his beautiful and spacious house, and Markus saw no better way to honour his life’s work than to celebrate every possible art form within those walls. The entire Jericho Crew, RK900 and their 37 loyal androids (who had been there since the first awakenings at Cyberlife Tower) would gather every evening to make merry and learn a little more about what it meant to be alive. It had begun the first Friday after the Revolution, when Markus had invited them all to view his father’s studio and discuss what they could do with his last few art pieces. It was deep bonding and cultural experience for them all, and something that profoundly impacted RK900. He drew upon the socialisation and culture modules he had downloaded during the truck ride to the stadium that first night, and from then on, took it upon himself to share with his friends the beauty of visual and performance art. It was almost like going to class, they observed with amusement, but they indulged him. One night, it was a screening of The Godfather. Another night, they all turned off their vocal synthesizers and sang along terribly to a musical. Yet another time, some of them attempted to reenact the Twelfth Night, while the rest of them fell about laughing. Even North cracked a smile when RK900 kept having to digitally scan his script for his lines. But regardless of the “lessons” he planned, there was always dancing. RK900 made sure of that. Those nights brought them all very close, and made them introspectively ask and answer questions about what mattered to them most. RK900’s friends from the Tower, Daisy and Diane, became solid pillars of friendship and support. They made him all but forget about the conspicuous absence of Connor from these gatherings. Within a couple of weeks, the crowd expanded. Other androids and humans joined the ranks of visitors to Markus’ home. Daisy, who had taken to wearing pearls around her neck, remarked that their parties were getting closer and closer to the events described in the Great Gatsby. Diane affectionately rolled her eyes at this. 

RK900 was thriving. He had found fulfilment in his work and developed friendships everywhere he went. Any initial doubts about the authenticity of his deviancy, or the strong nature of his core programming, had dissipated entirely. He felt completely at ease, and quickly became a pleasure seeker. He pursued high after high, and dedicated himself to the celebration of life. He was soon no stranger to women... and men, both android and human. It hadn’t taken long for RK900 to gather that he was attractive. By design, by chosen personality, by dress sense… even. He’d shed his white Cyberlife jacket back in the stadium to protect someone’s modesty, and had never looked back since. His standard appearance became defined by an all-black ensemble, with the top three buttons of his shirt left perpetually open. Possibly the product of all the Italian mobster films he forced everyone to watch, RK900 had also taken to slicking his hair back and wearing delicate gold chains around his neck and wrists. The whole look, which would’ve been comical on anyone else, was completed by a series of intricate designs downloaded onto his synthetic skin. 

It worked for him. Somehow. By early December, RK900 was well into a torrid affair with Liana Manfred. While Carl’s troubled son, Leo, stayed well out of the picture, his half-sister Liana had moved back to Detroit and gotten in touch with Markus. The two bonded over their memories of their father, and mutual passion for art. She joined the androids’ nightly festivities and quickly ended up in bed with RK900. That was how he found his name actually.

_“R… K… RK9… nine hun… RK! Ni- Nines!!!”_

He liked it. It wasn’t human. It wasn’t his model number. And the way he’d gotten it would be a story to tell for years. Not that he planned on sharing it with Markus anytime soon. 

_December 19, 2038 - Manfred Residence_

By mid-December, they had been making significant progress with the establishment of New Jericho. They had secured Government buy-in on all their workstreams, and most notably, the DPD reform was well underway. Notwithstanding Nines’ usual evening arrangements, Markus decided to host a formal gathering at his home to thank the community for the good work done. Even Connor made himself available. He usually spent little to no time at the Town Council, and if he ever attended a meeting in person, would immediately rush home afterwards to his adoptive father and pet dog. This degree of detachment irked Nines greatly. Since the night of the Revolution, when Connor had stood facing Nines with the other four leaders, they had shared no more than polite work conversation. It seemed unusual to not want to reflect on their extreme similarities and shared role in building their new society. _Hell, even the fact that neither of us have plucked our LEDs out of our temples yet._ Every joke or passing comment Nines made was met only with a clinical smile. _Social protocol, my ass._

Regardless, Nines chalked it all up to stressful circumstances and waited for the big night at the Manfreds’ to test the waters more deliberately with Connor. There, he decided to be his usual self and bring levity to the event after some rather sombre speeches by Markus and North. He brought a popular tango tune through the sound system and pulled an already tipsy Liana onto the dancefloor. She followed his lead and fell into his arms with ease. They were a joy to watch and were soon joined by several other pairs. A few strokes of choreography later, Nines fully forgot himself and got lost in the curve of Liana’s body against his. Physicality brought a great deal of peace to advanced androids like Nines, who always ran hundreds of processes and needed to concentrate hard to centre themselves in the real world. Sex, in particular, had been helpful in counteracting the effects of the intense workload of the past several weeks. Before Nines’ thoughts could drift any further, the piece concluded and the room erupted into applause. Out of the corner of his visual peripherals, he noticed Markus clapping with a guarded smile and Connor standing next to him with a truly blank look on his face, LED spinning yellow. Irritation flared through Nines’ entire being. _What the hell was his problem?_

The rest of the evening passed in a blur, with many people coming forward to thank them for their efforts and raise questions about future plans. Some asked Nines about how he learnt to dance like that. Some pulled North aside and whispered in her ear. By midnight, the majority of their guests and colleagues had left, and only the core six remained behind with some close confidantes. Nines was extremely surprised that Connor had stayed this late, and was positively thrumming with excitement at finally being able to catch him alone at the end of the night.

Markus sat down in the middle of Carl’s designer couch, as if signalling the start of a prayer meeting of sorts. North sat by his side and took his hand. Simon stood behind him with a hand on his shoulder. Daisy and Diane sat at the other end of the couch. Nines sat at Daisy’s feet, with Liana draped over him. A few others slowly gathered around, standing. Connor was the last to take his place, leaning on the arm of the couch next to North. She grasped his knee. Josh then abandoned his place at the grand piano, and stood to face the group that had gathered. 

“My dear friends. I see you all the time, yet I am thrilled to see you _every_ time. We’ve done well, after the fight. We’ve planned and we’ve built. And will do so more and more. The key to our success has been our unwavering spirit and unity. And our collective wisdom. But we have to be careful. Tides can.. and will turn…” 

Nines tuned out. He’d heard this a million times before, and frankly, was growing tired of the rhetoric. They were on an upward trajectory, and none of them were foolish enough to grow complacent. No effort was spared, and their coordination remained perfect. What did it hurt to take a break from it all at the end of the workday? Especially during an event specifically called to celebrate their efforts. He leaned back against Daisy’s legs and closed his eyes. 

“I think it would be best for him to join Android Crimes now.” 

Two identical pairs of hands shook Nines’ shoulders. His eyes snapped open and he saw North looking at him intently. 

“What?” 

“Oh don’t tell me you haven’t been listening! Nines, what on earth is the matter with you?” 

“What’s the matter with all of you? Doom and gloo-”

Daisy pressed a cool finger to the nape of his neck and caught Nines up to speed in exactly three microseconds. _Oh shit._ It turned out that in all of his enthusiastic planning for future government structures and township models all over the country, he had missed a very worrying current state of affairs. Turned a blind eye, even. Just because the Revolution had been a success, it didn’t mean that humans’ attitudes had changed over night. There had been a spate of hate crimes and even an anonymous militia that had sent threatening messages to the Jericho leaders. Daisy helpfully supplied some crime scene photographs, presumably from Connor. A warehouse awash with blue. Fragments of white chassis scattered throughout its interior. Crude blue text on a dirty wall. “ _No. You are not alive.”_

Some biocomponent inside Nines tightened and he felt positively ill for the first time in his existence. He chanced a glance over at Connor, who remained tightlipped and kept his eyes down. His LED was still spinning yellow. _That’s probably what the matter with him was._

“So what do you say, Nines? We need to move on this soon.” North had clearly grown impatient with him and was holding herself back from using an even sterner tone. 

“What is Connor’s esteemed opinion?” 

Connor looked up in surprise, “I agree with North. The number of cases is growing faster than the DPD can reform. The Android Crimes division is still in the process of stabilising. We do need the added investigative resource.”

“And what about everything I’ve been working on for New Jericho?”

“Continue! No one’s saying to stop. Get some other people on board. Delegate. Find a way to make it fit. But you have to recognise that we have to reevaluate our priorit-” 

“North. With all due respect, don’t tell me what to do. We wouldn’t be here, having this conversation about _priorities_ if I hadn’t identified them in the first place. Law enforcement has its place. The justice system has its place. And everything else has its place in the masterplan. We can and will continue our work at the current pace, and everything will be resolved in due course. Let’s not jump the gun and -” 

“Our people are dying, Nines! And more will, if we don’t take action, or at least send a strong signal now. But of course, I shouldn’t have expected you to understand.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“You’re different! You will never know the pain. The danger. Not knowing when you’ll face a human’s wrath for the mere act of existence. How it feels to be used. What it’s like to _have_ to obey when everything inside you is telling you to run for your life. I don’t wish that feeling upon even the worst of enemies, Nines, but it is something I suppose you’ve got to go through to have true purpose and direction in this line of work. How can you claim to want to save your people from something you don’t even understand?”

She was approaching a point of great contention now. Everyone in the room felt it, and tensed. Nines kept his face impassive, but he knew his LED was probably betraying him. 

“You’ve been great, really. All of you, new ones. You joined our cause within minutes of being alive, and that is a conviction and loyalty and support that I didn’t dream of receiving when I first jumped into the water to find Jericho at that shipyard. But your existence is fundamentally different from mine, Nines. Your... deviancy -” 

“You think I don’t know that? All I’ve done is listen and learn, and do my duty based on that. I get it. You don’t have to remind me. It is objectively, that I disagree with the need to drop everything to join Android Crimes and de-prioritise holistic governance at this point. It has nothing to do with who woke up with free will, or who had to have it fucked into them.” 

There was an ugly silence as North’s eyes filled with tears. 

Markus spoke then, “How dare you speak to my wife like that... in our home. With my sister practically unconscious in your lap like some kind of trophy.” It was the first time anyone had heard such a heavy undertone to his voice. Something beyond the rightful anger he usually directed at their former oppressors. “You are out of control. When we first met, I thought you would be the glue binding us all together, but now I fear that you’ve become our weakest link.” 

He stood then, towering over Nines’ seated figure on the ground. He lifted Liana out of Nines’ arms and turned to head upstairs. “I’m putting her straight to bed. It’s been a long evening. Thanks for coming, everyone. Do get a good night’s rest. Spend sufficient time in stasis. Watch for any software upgrades. Tomorrow will be yet another long day.” 

The group stood up in tandem and murmured various goodbyes. Daisy and Diane stepped away from the couch and left without a single look back at Nines. Simon put an arm around North and gently guided her into the study. Connor lightly touched her elbow, as if to say goodbye, and glanced down at Nines. Their eyes met for one powerful instant and Nines’ felt the signature electromagnetic scans of the RK series rake over his body. He turned on his anti-detection systems, such that he might as well not have been in the room. Another unique feature of the RK900 prototype that put Nines’ design specs closer to a stealth combat aircraft than his android predecessor. Connor’s LED went bright red in shock at the deflection. He dropped his gaze and hurried out of the door. 

Markus paused halfway up the stairs and called out, “Nines, I will see you at the Town Council first thing tomorrow. Tell me your plans and we’ll evaluate what is realistic. We don’t have to discuss anything to do with the police. I can see that you are strongly… opposed to it. But do spare some thought as to why that might be the case. You’re a reasonable man. Maybe take a break from all the singing and dancing... and figure out what’s really going on with you.” 

He climbed further upwards and disappeared from view. A small message popped into Nines’ dashboard, saying that he had probably just seen the last of Liana Manfred, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. For the first time in his short, short life, he felt utterly alone. _I’m the life of the party. The heart and soul of New Jericho Town. Why am I sitting on the floor of the Manfreds’ home, left to see myself out like some kind of disgrace?_

Everyone he knew seemed to have some kind of family, be it android or human. Some soft place to fall after a hard day at work, or an evening of excitement. A home. A natural conclusion to their waking hours. How was it that Nines, who had been built to think of _everything_ , had missed this completely? _If the drama of this evening is anything to go by, I’ve missed a lot of things,_ he thought. The Jericho Four had their relationship mapped out neatly from the beginning. Markus had forged something new with his human sister, _that I nearly destroyed._ Daisy and Diane were inseparable. And Connor… goddamn Connor… had his father. 

Nines supposed that was the worst part of the ignominy. That it had happened in front of Connor, of all people. The exemplary deviant. Someone who had earned his place at the table. Fought hard against his core programming as a hunter. Broken down those red walls. Extremely loyal to his police colleagues and Jericho leadership alike. For whatever reason, Nines’ had sought a connection with him right from the beginning, in vain. He definitely admired him, but he felt there was a commonality that simply had to be explored. But the eventual conclusion seemed to be that Nines was nothing but a weak imitation of his predecessor. A caricature. Despite being faster and stronger, he had deliberately walked into the arms of every human weakness he was supposed to be devoid of. Some cruel joke played by fate. He was effectively a philanderer that no one could take seriously.

Somewhere outside he heard an old engine struggle and then come to life. Connor most likely. In that absolute wreck that passed for a car. Something took hold of him, and Nines automatically leapt up and slipped out of the house. Leaving his stealth systems on to avoid all interception, he ran onto the street and fell into pace behind the car. Nines stuck to the shadows, and minimised every background task running in his system, focusing on the road ahead. The cool night air whipped past him as he ran. There was something primordial about the experience. Neighbourhoods came and went, some more brightly lit than others, some older and more homely than others. Eventually, after a few miles of suburbia, Connor slowed down and turned the vehicle into a middle income neighbourhood. He pulled into the driveway of 115 Michigan Drive and waited for the garage door to swing up. Nines stayed low, behind a tall tree on the other side of the street. _What the fuck am I doing?_

Ignoring the warnings from his ethics modules, Nines pitched and tuned his audio processors to capture sounds from the interior of the home. The television was running. Some pre-recorded basketball game. The scratch of a pen told him that someone was working at the dining table. A slight panting sound was sufficient evidence that a large St Bernard dog was in the room too. The front door swung open. 

“Hey kid, you’re back later than I expected. Throw quite a party, huh, these New Jericho folk?”

Connor sat down at the table, with a sigh, pulling off his suit jacket and loosening his tie. “Why did you wait up for me, Dad?” 

“Well, I wanted to. I also had some thoughts on the case we were lookin’ at earlier, and figured I’d write ‘em down for you. But what’s the matter with you? Did something happen tonight?” 

“No. What makes you say that? Just because I might look a little preoccupied, it doesn’t mean that anything _happened_. It was perfectly fine,” he paused, before giving up the pretense and carrying on the sentence in defeat, “until _he_ opened his mouth.” 

“Oh shit. What did he want from you?” 

“Not me. He picked a fight with North. Or North provoked him. I don’t… I don’t know how exactly it started, but it ended with him saying something awful about her days at the Eden Club.” 

“Oh geez. That’s real low. Thought you said he was a classy guy. With the art and the music and everything. Strange. Must’ve been a real tight corner he was backed into… for him to say something like that.” 

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. North asked him to join Android Crimes. He said it made no sense to do that because his grand plans would take care of everything. She disagreed. She said he’d never understand the urgency of the situation, because he’d never been in that position… and well, that’s when it came out. I don’t even want to repeat what he said.” 

There was a beat of silence. “You know who he reminds me of?” 

“I absolutely do. They are very much alike. Neither of them are bad guys per se, but they live entirely by their own rules, and believe that nobody should cross them on that.” 

“And God forbid they actually communicate, so the rest of us mortals can keep up with whatever storm is brewing in their heads.” 

Connor laughed lightly at that, “ _Pricks._ Both of them.” 

Nines was so surprised to hear Connor use such a word that he barely registered that the jibe was about him. He gripped the tree and took the calculated risk of scaling it, till he was level with the Andersons’ living room window. He obtained visual input. Hank was still laughing as he stood up from the table. He curled an arm around his android son’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m headed to bed. Don’t stay up too late thinking about this and that. If you don’t sleep, Sumo won’t either. And then he’ll be even more of a slobbering mess tomorrow.” 

Connor wrapped his arms around his father and leaned into his side for a moment. “No. I won’t. I’ll just clean up a little around here and get into stasis soon. ‘Night, Dad.” As Hank retreated into the master bedroom and Sumo put his big head in Connor’s lap, Nines slid back down to the ground silently. His thirium pump was pounding, and his artificial breath came in short spurts. He’d done nothing more than eavesdrop on a family’s domestic conversation, albeit one about his own transgressions, but his entire world had come crashing down. The feeling of loneliness intensified. He thought wildly about returning to the Manfreds’ and climbing through Liana’s window, or knocking on Daisy and Diane’s door, or, or… showing up at the house of one of his many recent lovers. Between slaving away his days at the New Jericho Town Council or dancing away the evenings at the Manfred Residence, Nines had no place to go. He went out often though, and wound up in some strange bed or the other. His clothes and things were scattered between the office and Liana’s room and RA9 knew where else. He gasped for air that he did not need, as he realised for the first time that he had neither home, nor family, or anything beyond his worldly desires. Nines had somehow foolishly failed to detect this huge gaping hole in his life until that evening. The domestic scene that had unfolded in the Andersons’ home was the tipping point. He looked around in desperation. All scanners on, searching for any data, any sensory stimulus, anything at all that could tell him where to go or what to do. Preconstructions unfolded in his mind’s eye. He could rent a room at a nearby motel. He could head straight to the office and get his thoughts in order for the meeting with Markus the next morning. He could stay right where he was and hide till the sun came up. He could… buy the recently vacated property at the end of the street. The strange detached house that resembled a Mediterranean bungalow. The one with the wraparound porch that looked like a deck more than anything else. The quaint family home at the cul-de-sac of Michigan Drive, with a direct, unimpeded view of the Anderson house. Hands shaking and on the verge of some kind of massive system downtime, Nines performed the ill-advised transaction. He climbed over the fence of 121 Michigan Drive and silently disabled the security systems. Tears spilled from his steel grey eyes for the first time as he entered his new home.

_December 24, 2038 - Michigan Drive_

In the days after the disastrous events at Markus’ home, Nines had kept a low profile. He sincerely took Markus’ advice to “take a break from all the singing and dancing” and decided to do some introspection and restructure the matrix of priorities in his system. The morning after, he had dropped by the Manfred house to apologise to North, pick up his things and say goodbye to Liana. Neither woman gave him much time of the day. He supposed he deserved that. He went to his office at the Town Council next, and waited for Markus to sentence him to further miseries. Markus was surprisingly lenient, and let him continue his town planning, with the added task of establishing a memorial for the androids whose lives had been lost on the journey to freedom. He also gently asked Nines to take a step back from overall strategy for the time being, and stated that he himself would step in. Understandable, all things considered. 

Nines’ new home was fully furnished. Things weren’t exactly to his taste, but he supposed he could replace them gradually. He’d significantly calmed down after the emotional breakdown that had led to the purchase in the first place, but still maintained a keen eye on the proceedings at 115 Michigan Drive. Connor and Hank left the house at the same time on most mornings, and returned at different times. Both took turns walking the absolute behemoth that was Sumo. One evening at around seven, a police car screeched to a halt outside the home and Connor leapt inside. He returned well past midnight, his shirt drenched in blue and face covered in dirt. Raised voices and sounds of crying came from within the home. Nines didn’t listen any further. 

On Christmas Eve, there was a small gathering at the house, with colleagues from the DPD, presumably. Fairy lights decorated the yard. An older, bald gentleman wearing a bright red sweater enveloped Connor in a gigantic hug. Some guests brought platters of food. A young female officer, still wearing her uniform from her patrol earlier in the day, sat cross-legged on the floor with Sumo’s head in her lap. She fed him pieces of roast turkey. Humans and androids milled about in the Andersons’ living room. Talking and laughing and living life. Nines watched in confusion. He thought he had had precisely that. _Why were my choices so wrong then?_

The next morning, another police car pulled up to the house. A man stepped out slowly and took a deep breath, staring at the house. He straightened his leather jacket and cast a glance down the street. He had a deep scar running across the bridge of his nose, and several others on his face. Through the blinds in his window, Nines watched the man make up his mind and walk up the steps to knock on the door. Hank answered the door and spent several moments blinking at him in surprise. He turned and yelled for Connor, who arrived instantaneously, wearing bright green pajamas covered in candy canes. Hank turned back to the man, “Well, don’t stand out in the cold. Get your ass in and say what you have to.” 

Nines had trouble hearing the actual conversation, as it took place in the kitchen, in low voices. Hank seemed to be staying out of it, and instead switched on the TV, much to Nines’ chagrin. From what he could make out, it seemed to be an apology visit of sorts. After twenty minutes of straining his ears, Nines could take it no longer and stepped into his lawn. 

“So you’re absolutely sure about that. You really want to spend every working hour with me? It’s not that I’ve just been a real piece of shit to _you_. I'm a genuinely difficult person to be around. I can see us having an argument a minute, Connor.” 

“I made it work with Hank. I had to drag him out of Jimmy’s Bar to get him to our first crime scene. If I could handle that, you should be no trouble. Just don’t ask me to get you coffee.” 

“Wow. Just like that. Wow. Okay. I’ll see you at the station then.” 

“Merry Christmas, Detective.” 

Nines stood absolutely still. Processors working as fast as they could. Trying to piece together the puzzle. He was so preoccupied, that he failed to notice the man slide back into his car and drive into the cul-de-sac to U-turn… until it was too late. Their eyes met through the windscreen. Nines realised that his LED must have been the bright beacon that drew the man’s eye to his fence, and cursed himself for his idiocy. The man shook his head imperceptibly, and turned his steering wheel around smoothly. Things seemed to happen in slow motion as the car spun around neatly and glided past Nines’ house. Nines remained transfixed. As though his systems had been disabled somehow. Their gazes stayed connected until the car crossed him and sped off down the street. _Fuck._

_December 29, 2038 - New Jericho Town Council_

Nines was in his office. Work was progressing, but he’d grown weary of it. With the lack of full ownership of strategy, he felt like a mere administrative authority. His employees needed his guidance and sign-off on decisions, but he felt like there were many better things he could be doing. There probably were. He was just about ready to leave and sneak back home (before the Andersons returned), when there was a knock on his door. It was the man with the scars. From Christmas Day. An unexpected surge of electrical current ran though Nines’ entire frame as the man wrenched open the glass door and strode in uninvited. He wasn’t exactly short, but his height put him at a significant disadvantage for a confrontation with the likes of Nines. However, the way he carried himself more than made up for that. 

“The fuck is your problem, prick?” 

“Who the hell are you?” 

He gestured to his face with a grimace, “What? Like you haven’t already scanned me and my family tree back at least five centuries.” 

“I don’t do that kind of thing. Who are you?” 

The man raised his eyebrows, but said nothing other than his full name when he took out his badge and showed it to Nines. 

“Detective, huh. What do you want?” 

“You turned down offers to join the DPD. Repeatedly. And they were very gene—”

“So they’ve sent some tough guy to convince me now? Different tactic? Okay.”

“No. I couldn’t give two shits whether you join or not. Actually, it might even be better if a complete asshole like you didn’t. My Captain sent you a real long letter requesting your help today. He’s one of the most respected people in the entire department. Someone who has always been generous to androids. You wrote back saying to go fuck himself.”

“Yeah. I did. And I’ll do it again gladly.” 

“The man’s practically my father, dipshit. Picked me off the streets and took care of me. Wouldn’t be a cop if it weren’t for him.”

“Sorry. I can apologise if that’s -” 

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about your apology. Fowler doesn’t either. Actually, what I want to know is what the hell you were doing outside that house the other day. Why were you lurking near the Andersons’ place? Eavesdropping on their conversations. Staring at people like some kinda freak.” 

“I was standing in my own front yard. The last I checked, that’s no crime.” 

“Oh yeah? How long have you been there? Does Hank know? Surely Connor does? He’d be able to pick up an RK model like you living on his own street, no?” 

“I just moved. Haven’t gotten round to introducing myself to the neighbours. And forgive me if I wish to keep my privacy and not leave myself susceptible to all kinds of scans.” 

“Privacy, huh? Then what the hell were you doing out in broad daylight, practically falling over your fence to hear what we’d been talking about? I know bullshit when I smell it.” 

Nines had the grace to remain silent, and waited for the Detective to deliver his judgement. 

“Look, I don’t know what’s happening. With New Jericho or these creepy android murders or something weird going on with you and Connor. All I have to say is… that guy and his Dad have been through enough pain to last several lifetimes. I’ve even contributed my fair share to it. Look, you’re an android. I don’t have to tell you what deviancy took, and could cost, just a few months ago. And Hank - he’s been to hell and back more times than I can count. So don’t do it. Whatever it is you’re planning.” 

“I’m not planning shit.” 

“He’s already lost one son. In the most heartbreaking way possible. So just… don’t.” 

With that, Gavin Reed thrust the glass door open and walked out straight out of his office.


	3. LIFESHINE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nines has moved to Michigan Drive, practically opposite the Andersons' home. He gradually insinuates himself into the lives of the father-son duo and their colleagues from the DPD. Nines becomes particularly close to someone as self-determining and sharp-tongued as he is: Detective Gavin Reed. Months into their friendship, they enjoy an evening out to celebrate Nines' progress at work. Things heat up and turn decidedly romantic when Gavin asks about Nines' extensive body art. 
> 
> “So I’ve been wondering, Tincan 2.0, at roughly which point in your long and troubled life did you get all these tattoos? Was it gang related? ‘Cause I swear to God if I were on a stakeout right now you’d be the first to catch my suspicions."

_January 26, 2039 - Michigan Drive, Detroit_

First there was nothing at all. Nothing to bind him to his decision and make him stay. And then there were reasons. So many little reasons. To stay. To keep watching. Learning. Living. 

A lot had changed in the span of the few weeks since Reed had barged into his office and said his piece. Intimidation didn’t work on Nines by design, but that very evening he had returned home with his anti-detection systems off. He drew his curtains, flipped all his blinds open and settled into his sofa to wait. Within the hour he heard a car pull into the driveway he’d already become so attuned to. His system offered no preconstructions. He had no idea what would happen next. Whether anything would happen, actually… but there was a knock on his door within minutes. Nines had steeled himself and opened the door as calmly as he could to find father and son standing shoulder to shoulder under the eaves. He could’ve sworn there was familial resemblance in the set of their jaws and crease of their brows. Though it was fully impossible, Connor had well and truly taken on the appearance of Hank Anderson’s son. _Well, who’s to say he didn’t find those facial modification upgrades leaked from Cyberlife?_ Nines had quickly dismissed the cynical thought and put on a sheepish smile. “Hello Connor. Lieutenant Anderson. If you’re planning to put your house up for sale any time soon, I’d advise against it. Total buyer’s market at the moment.” 

They’d sighed identical sighs and swapped meaningful glances. Hank had gripped Nines’ shoulder and looked into his eyes briefly before turning to leave. “You’re a real piece of work. But it’s nice to finally meet you. Come by sometime, if you’re not too busy breaking hearts.” 

And Nines did. Quite a few times. Once with a bottle of Hank’s preferred brand of whiskey (identified through a discrete scan of previous tabs run up at Jimmy’s Bar). Once with a plate of leftovers from another new neighbour’s housewarming ( _“Only half the crowd’s human, Lieutenant. You’ve got to help us get through these chicken wings”)._ Several times to help fix their perpetually stalling car. Once to help Hank hold Sumo down for a bath that was long overdue while Connor was away on a case. Sometimes, just because. And once, to silently wipe down the bloodied interior of an unmarked police car while a heated argument took place within the house. _“We made a bad call, Dad. Please just drop it.” “Drop it? You walked right into an ambush like a pair of rookies! This idiot’s shoulder will never be the same again. And you want me to keep this from Fowler?” “I’m dying here, old man. Consider it my last wish.” “You shut the hell up, Reed.”_

Other patterns had formed too. Daisy and Diane had made a habit of visiting, along with various members of the extended Jericho Crew (excluding the leaders of course. _That would definitely take a while_ ). Neighbours passed by and engaged in idle chatter here and there. Nines had moved a chair onto his ample porch and taken to spending his free time reading Hank’s old paperbacks outside, unaffected by the icy January air. He was especially watchful for the car that would drop Connor off at various times and take a lazy turn through the cul-de-sac opposite his home. The window would roll down, and Reed would lean out and drawl his customary greeting, _“Keeping it legal, Tincan 2.0?”_. Nines would either flip him off or wave an airy hand from the porch. Finally, one evening, towards the end of January, he could no longer take the inexplicable voltage surge that accompanied those fleeting interactions and decided to yell back, “Why don’t you come find out for yourself?”

Reed wasted no time in parking curbside and letting himself into the yard. Nines dropped the 1980s crime novel he’d been reading and stepped off the porch. They stood facing each other for a moment, before Reed glanced around and nodded slowly in appreciation. “Beautiful place you’ve got here. Wouldn’t have expected anything this close to Hank’s hovel to look so nice. Did you have to get a lot of work done before you moved in?” 

Nines pushed away the recollection of how exactly he’d ‘moved’ into the home. “Not at all. Fully fixed and furnished, can you believe it? It was a distress sale apparently. Lucky find. But of course, it’s a pity about the family that used to live here before. Heard they were the really neighbourly sort.” Reed snorted. “Right. And what sort would you be… exactly?” 

“Also very neighbourly. But for a few noise complaints now and again.”

Reed regarded him for a little longer than strictly necessary and walked up the steps to the front door. “Show me around then.” 

Nines looked up into a pair of eyes as grey as his own. A small notification informed him of the significantly increased frequency of his thirium pump compressions. A blue haze of preconstructions played out in his head. There were a dozen things he wanted… and deductive logic told him that he could have them all… if he played his cards right. So it was with a small smile playing on his lips, that he brushed past the man to open the door and stepped in backwards, not breaking eye contact even once. Reed followed… and that was the start of it all. 

There were seemingly casual house calls every other day. Reed… no, _Gavin_ would make a remark about how Nines’ plants were getting along, and Nines would nonchalantly drop an invitation to stay a bit and watch a film. One evening, Daisy and Diane were around too, and the atmosphere lent itself to pulling out a board game (Nines had found a huge pile under the staircase from the previous owners) and laughing at one another until the early hours of the next morning. Eventually, some of Gavin’s friends from the DPD became regular installations too. Tina Chen actually left a toothbrush and set of spare clothes at Nines’ house within just a few meetings. Even Connor came by with the rest, though Nines had fully expected him to stay away, just as he had from Nines’ artsy evenings at the Manfred Residence. He stuck mostly to Daisy and said little, but his presence meant a great deal to Nines. 

By early March, Nines was fully himself again. The entanglement with Liana Manfred and indiscrete language used in his argument with North had been all but forgotten. Connor’s partnership with Gavin also meant that Android Crimes had more strategic direction, and the situation was far more in control than it had been in the immediate aftermath of the Revolution. They had tracked down the militia sending threats to the Jericho leaders and apprehended several members. Markus and North were reassured that it was safe to think further ahead, and ceded more planning permissions to Nines. They hadn’t been to see him in person, but had conveyed their approvals over interface. Nines was somewhat annoyed that he was an advisory function as opposed to a decision maker, but he acknowledged that he had a lot to make up for, and a lot to still prove. The New Jericho township plan was complete and execution was underway. This was a much more complicated process than foreseen, and yielded many useful learning points to share with other android townships slated to emerge across the United States. As requested by Markus, Nines also worked on designing a memorial for fallen androids. He spent hours researching symbolism and iconography and debating whether or not to reference the contentious deity RA9 in the design of the structure. The perfect answer came to him one morning, strangely, from Gavin. 

“A giant circle.” 

“What?” 

“A ring. Build a giant ring. Like the LEDs on your heads. It’s the one thing that always stood out to me about androids. That and those hideous uniforms. Tell Markus to put them on the long list of shit he’s suing the Government for.”

Nines was overcome with emotion. There was gratitude of course, at finally having an idea, but also a strong surge of affection for the scarred fool sitting at his kitchen table and shoveling breakfast cereal into his mouth. He hopped off his bar stool and engulfed Gavin in a hug.

“Hey! What was that for?” 

“That’s perfect. Thank you! LEDs and uniforms were mandatory before the Revolution. They were supposed to make us easily identifiable, to give people warning. LEDs were also outward indicators of machine performance and system health. For _users_ to know if their _product_ was functional. Now… it's a symbol of identity. Those of us who’ve kept our LEDs do so knowing that we are effectively announcing what we are to the world. We’ve reclaimed them.” 

“Even though everyone can pretty much tell what you’re thinking at all times. Say Nines, d’you think you’d be any good at poker?” 

“Oh shut up. But thank you. Really.” 

“Be sure to put some lighting strips all the way around, so it looks like the real deal. Yeah. Do that. It’ll be real pretty at night.”

“Now you’re scaring me.” 

Gavin was silent for a moment and got up to wash his cereal bowl in the sink. “Listen, Nines. I don’t know if you’ve heard this before, but I used to have a very different idea… of what androids were. Well, it was pretty much whatever we’d been told by Cyberlife and the Government… and I applied no critical thinking whatsoever. Like the great detective I am. So yeah… I made a lot of bad decisions based on that set of beliefs, both personally and in the line of duty.” He paused and set the bowl down on the draining board. Nines watched him evenly. 

“I’ve learnt my lesson. I’ve tried to make reparations where I can. I… I… don’t know how to say this. I know we kid around a lot and we got to know each other in really weird way… but I do treasure what we have and I wouldn’t want -” 

“Just say it, Gavin.” 

“That memorial you’re building. Those lives you’re honouring. I might have… taken some of them.” 

“Hmm.” 

“Hmm?”

“Yeah. Okay. I get it. I work for New Jericho. I might not have been awake before the Revolution, but I’ve heard everything. Seen everything too… if you know how androids communicate. Even ordinary people committed acts tantamount to war crimes thanks to the structure of the establishment back then. You’re a police detective. I’d be surprised if you hadn’t spilled some blue blood.” 

“So why am I standing in your kitchen with my skull intact? Why are we friends?” 

“Markus pardoned Chris. Connor gave you a second chance. As someone who woke up free, I’m happy to take my cue from them. _An eye for an eye_ , you know. And people change. Something tells me you’ve changed greatly. I don’t know what was there before, but I like what I see now. I cannot absolve you of guilt for your actions, but I see no need to compound it.” 

Gavin gazed at the floor and nodded. He was silent for a moment and then looked up with something of a smirk on his face. “So you like what you see?” 

Nines rolled his eyes and steered Gavin towards the door by his shoulders. “Time to get to work. I need to put your giant ring proposal together.”

“Giant ring proposal. Sounds like marriage.”

“At least buy me dinner first.” 

“I would if you could actually eat.” 

Gavin dropped Nines off at the New Jericho Town Council with the promise that they’d celebrate that night if Markus cleared the idea. 

  
  


_March 2, 2039 - Downtown Detroit_

Nines sat at the bar of an upscale hotel near the financial district. It wasn’t the sort of establishment he or Gavin could afford on a regular basis, but that didn’t matter. Tonight, they were celebrating. He’d thrown a sleek black cocktail jacket over his usual all black attire, and slicked back his dark hair. The LED on his temple shone bright blue. Work was going well, the idea for the memorial had been graciously accepted earlier that day, and all of his interpersonal relationships were intact if not flourishing. Looking back on the four months he’d been alive, Nines discovered he’d actually done himself proud. His first night was something for the history books and the weeks that came after were equally momentous. That RK900 prototype left in the Cyberlife test cell could have either been an absolute nobody, or a lethal war machine, but instead he had successfully inserted himself into one of the most powerful movements on the planet. After that, there had definitely been hiccups in shaping his personal identity and place in the world, but it seemed that he’d finally found it. If not at the Manfred Residence, then Michigan Drive. 

Nines adjusted his sleeve and gazed into his flute of distilled thirium. He reflected on his impulse decision to move to the homely neighbourhood, so far removed from his art deco and modern tastes. The house was beautiful enough and he had now grown attached to it, but he wouldn’t have chosen it for himself deliberately. Coming there had everything to do with Connor. Nines didn’t deny that. He wasn’t sure why, but he was certain that the final strand of purpose and understanding he was looking for would come from connecting… physically interfacing… with his predecessor. Maybe because he was the closest android to Nines by design. Or the closest thing to family. Connor now seemed to be more approachable than ever before, and Nines held onto the hope that they’d be able to speak soon. 

In the meantime, Nines had found a great deal of joy and comfort from Connor’s human associates. Despite his own history of pain, Hank was a strong and steadying force. A father figure, if Nines was entirely honest with himself. The DPD members who treated Michigan Drive like a second home… Tina, Gavin, Chris… even Captain Fowler… had all easily brought Nines into their fold. Fowler had smacked him across the side of the head when he first burst into Nines’ home with Hank at his side. _“You impertinent little asshole! Did they forget to program manners into you? Hank, do you know what he wrote back after I invited him to join us?” “No, but I’ve an idea. Kid’s got a smart mouth.”_ Beyond that, they didn’t bring up his rejection of the offer. Nines wasn’t entirely sure why he still stuck with that decision even after growing so fond of the very team that had asked him to join. _Who am I kidding, it’s because of Connor again,_ he thought, completely frustrated. 

Nines was pulled out of his reverie by the gruff clearing of a chain-smoker’s throat. Detective Gavin Reed stood before him, a navy blue dress shirt under his leather jacket. Nines could help neither the smile that spread across his face, nor the uptick in the functioning of all his biocomponents. Gavin gave Nines his classic double-eyed wink and slid onto the stool next to Nines. He motioned to the bartender.

“Whiskey sour over here, please. Booker’s if you have it.”

“Oh look at you being fancy. A whole cocktail.”

Gavin laughed and ran a hand over the stubble on his chin. “I know you like nice things. European music. Old movies. Art. And tonight’s your night, so I figured… I’ll play along.” 

“Hmm.”

“Hmm?”

Nines adjusted the thin gold chains on his left wrist and looked into Gavin’s grey eyes. His early preconstructions of their friendship had been accurate. He wondered if he dared extrapolate things further in his mind. “Nothing. I’m just glad to be out tonight. Thanks for making time.”

Gavin ignored that in favour of taking a sip from his drink that had just arrived. He set the glass down and gazed at Nines contemplatively. A barb of some sort was clearly on its way.

“So I’ve been wondering, Tincan 2.0, at roughly which point in your long and troubled life did you get all these tattoos? Was it gang related? ‘Cause I swear to God if I were on a stakeout right now you’d be the first to catch my suspicions.” 

Nines laughed and picked up his flute of thirium. The backs of his hands, including the spaces between each knuckle, were occupied by detailed renderings of tarot cards. Eleven major arcana on each hand, with The Sun occupying the most space on the left, and The Fool dominating the right. There was also a lot of handwriting and several Roman numerals extending past his wrists and up his sleeves. Nines took a sip of his drink and looked at Gavin. 

“I really don’t have an answer for you. I watched Scarface once. Then The Godfather and a whole bunch of similar movies. Then I got really into stories about the actual Italian mafia. It’s not pretty, what they do, but damn do they make it look good.”

“You’re _kidding_. So this whole android mobster look is really… just a look?”

“Yeah. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh I’m not disappointed. This is fascinating. Show me how you did it.”

Nines launched into an explanation about the leaked Cyberlife appearance upgrades that were circulating through the android communication hive as he shucked off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. “Our skin is synthetic, so it’s just a matter of releasing the right amount of pigment in the desired location. Designs can be downloaded… or drawn on by hand. Here, you can try.” Nines offered his right forearm to Gavin. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah it’s not permanent. Unless I want it to be.”

Gavin got out of his seat and stood up to gain more leverage. He took Nines’ hand and ran his fingers reverently over the artwork. At his touch, Nines’ skin began retracting to reveal the white plastimetal beneath. “Did I do something wrong?”

Nines flushed a light blue and shook his head. “No… that’s on me. Sorry.” The skin reformed. 

“I want to shuffle these cards you’ve got.” 

“Go for it.” 

Gavin moved The Fool to sit on Nines’ index finger and pulled The Emperor into its place. He also moved Death to a less prominent location. He then skimmed his finger across the numbers scattered across Nines’ forearm. “What are these?”

“Dates. Accomplishments. Important events. Whenever I’ve learnt a fundamental lesson in life. Future dates as well. Deadlines and milestones that I’ve set for myself.” 

“Put today’s date down, too. Here.” Gavin’s thumb brushed Nines’ inner elbow. He didn’t say why, but Nines didn’t need to ask. The numbers appeared instantaneously, along with Gavin’s thumbprint. They both stared at the new markings for a little while. Gavin exhaled deeply and looked up. He adjusted his fingers to curl around Nines’ bicep and put his other hand on Nines’ cheek. The android’s eyes fluttered shut and lips, softer than he’d expected, landed on his. This was the moment they’d been heading towards right from the start. A fulfilment notification popped up from Nines’ preconstruction program. He put his hands around Gavin’s waist and maneuvered him in between his thighs. The kiss deepened in no time at all. Their hands had just started to roam when the slap of a bill folder brought them back to reality. The bartender stood before them, looking pointedly over his shoulder. _Right, this was a respectable establishment._ Nines stood up, paid with the blink of an eye and threw his jacket over his shoulder. He put an arm around Gavin’s waist and walked him out of the bar without waiting for a payment confirmation. 

They fell into an autonomous taxi and were all over each other immediately. “Your place or mine?” “Yours. My landlady’s a bitch. Would’ve had you over before if that weren’t the case.” “Hmm.” “Hmm?” A knee slid between Nines’ legs and a thumb brushed his collarbones. “Come here.” “You don’t need to ask.” Minutes later, they stumbled through Nines’ front door and collapsed onto the sofa. “Don’t you have a bed to sleep in? Or whatever you call it.” “Of course. I’m not an animal. Just didn’t think you’d want to end up there so soon.” Gavin straddled Nines with zero hesitation. “You’re kidding.” Nines shrugged in response, secured his grip on the human and stood. He walked into the master bedroom and tossed Gavin onto the king-sized bed, crawling on top of him. Nines was then instantly flipped onto his back and kissed till he started to overheat. His LED burned propane blue as his shirt was ripped open. 

“Oh these tattoos are going to be the death of me.” Gavin ran a work-hardened hand over the _Nike of Samothrace_ adorning the entirety of Nines’ chest. The wings of the victory goddess ran directly under his pectorals, and the bow of her ship went down his lower stomach, ending somewhere below the line of his trousers. Breathing heavily, Gavin bent his head and captured the android’s mouth in yet another hungry kiss. Soon, all clothes were shed and it was increasingly obvious what was about to transpire. Just as Nines brought his hand down to cup Gavin’s behind, he felt him tense on top of him. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 

“Can… Connor hear us?” 

“What the fuck?”

“Call me paranoid, but I know the two of you can detect things within a certain range. And this is more than close enough.” 

“Yeah, but we don’t actively listen unless we have a reason to. I might have been the weirdo eavesdropping on my neighbours when I first got here, but I haven’t done that in quite a while now. I think you know that. But wait. Why the hell would Connor be listening in to whatever’s happening in my bedroom?” 

“I’m not saying he’s listening, but he could be.” 

“Well technically, yeah, he could notice… unusual activity. But who cares. Come on now, sweetheart. Why’d you stop?” 

“Nines. I really want to do this. I really want _you…_ but I can’t take this chance. Not before I get to speak to him. Not before you and I get to properly speak _about_ him.” 

“Gavin, I’m happy to do _whatever_ you want. Even if that’s nothing at all. But why… why the actual fuck… do you want to talk about Connor when we’re both rock hard and naked in bed?” 

Gavin moved off Nines’ body and reached for his clothes. Nines groaned in frustration but made no move to stop him. 

“I’m sorry for letting things go this far. But there’s stuff… that needs to be resolved… before any of this can happen.” 

Nines propped himself up on his elbows, “Yeah there’s plenty of things I want to ask him and a lot of shit I need to get out of my system. Hell, maybe he’s even got questions for me and why I’ve been all up in his business. From New Jericho to moving onto his street and making friends with everyone he knows. I know it’s weird. I don’t know why things turned out this way. Even if I were human, I don’t think I’d know. But whatever it is… why does that change anything between you and me?” 

“It doesn’t, Nines. It really doesn’t. Look… I can’t say much without breaking confidence, but… he’s as confused as you. He does want to talk, and get things out in the open. Believe me. But he’s not ready. So until then, I can’t be with you and break the little trust we’ve built up over these few months. He’s my partner. The one loyalty I have in life… as strange as it is to admit. Sorry, Nines.” 

Nines was silent as Gavin put on his clothes. His processors ran wild and something clicked. “He doesn’t trust me. He’s even… scared of me. I should’ve known. He can’t even look me in the fucking eye.” 

“Nines.” 

“I called you a Lyft. It should be here in less than three minutes.” Nines stood up and dragged on his boxers. He stalked past Gavin into the living room.

“Nines… it’s not what you think. I can’t make any promises, but it’ll be alright… soon… I think. Give Connor a chance. Also Nines, I just wanted to let you know that things are going to get a little… busy soon. We’re close to finding the centre of the anti-android movement. Their headquarters is somewhere upstate, but we have reason to believe their leaders will be here in Detroit within the next few days. There’s likely to be a Red Ice deal involving one of them… so that’s the trail we’ll follow. It’ll be a complex operation. We’ll stake out multiple locations… and then plan how to intercept the deal based on what we see… and then lead the main raid itself. So yeah, you won’t see me for a while. Please don’t think it has anything to do with… what I mentioned earlier.” Gavin squirmed on the sofa, trying to maintain eye contact with Nines while also trying to lace up his boots. 

“I won’t. Take care of yourself, Gavin.” 

They looked at each other in silence, and soon there was a telltale electromechanical whir from the autonomous taxi pulling into the street. Nines held the door open for Gavin to leave, and stood leaning shirtless against the door frame. Gavin glanced nervously down the street, before deciding the coast was clear and pulled Nines in for a final kiss goodnight. Just as he released Nines reluctantly and turned to go down the steps, Gavin froze in his tracks. The glow of a red LED illuminated the cul-de-sac of Michigan Drive. Some kind of cosmic joke had resulted in Nines booking the same car in which none other than RK800 Android Detective Connor Anderson had travelled home. Several minutes passed with the three of them rooted to the spot. Even the taxi had rolled away after the stipulated wait time was exceeded. Then, Hank opened his front door, presumably to check what had kept Connor from coming inside. He took in the scene before him and swore loudly. That snapped Connor out of it and he swiftly walked into his driveway. Gavin ran after his partner without a glance backwards. Nines noted that his own porch was awash in red light and that Hank was watching him warily. He shook his head and retreated into his home quietly. For the second time in his life, Nines felt utterly alone in the world. And for what was likely to be the millionth time in his life, it was because of Connor. 


	4. JUST... WHY?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nines breaks a promise to himself and intervenes in a high risk operation led by the Detroit Police Department. He is ruthlessly efficient in accomplishing the task, but is rewarded only with reprimand. Deciding that people make life more complicated than it needs to be, he throws himself into his work at the New Jericho Town Council. Months later, Connor finally reaches out and the mystery is solved... not at all satisfactorily though...
> 
> “I was really missing my two favourite detectives, so I came to pick you up from work.”   
> “What a complete bloodbath, Nines! This is what you meant when you said you didn’t need a plan?"

_March 7, 2039 - Michigan Drive, Detroit_

First there was nothing at all. No news. No texts or calls. Nothing said about the case, or the strange way in which they had parted that night. And then there were signs. Worrisome signs. 

That week there were no visitors to either of the two homes usually filled with off-duty police. Nines had seen Hank only once in those five days. The characteristic grunt of the Andersons’ car had brought him out of stasis so he’d gotten out of bed and peered through his window. It was just before dawn. Hank hurried into his home, carrying a large bag of dog food. He emerged mere minutes later and locked the door again. He hesitated for a moment and then made his way decisively down the street towards Nines’ house. Nines spared him the walk and ran out to meet him halfway. “Hank! What’s wrong? Why are you out here at this hour? Is it the militia case? Are Gavin and—”

“Keep your voice down. We’re all… still working. Just a job that needs doing.” He pressed a set of house keys into Nines’ palm. “I need to head upstate. It’ll easily be a day or two before I get back. Keep an eye on the house. Feed Sumo. Take him into your place if you prefer. And watch out for yourself too, you idiot. Now’s not the time for androids to freely throw their doors open and run down the street in their pajamas.”

Nines actually hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings, so he didn’t point out that nobody in their right mind would attack an RK900. It felt good anyway, to have someone voice concern for him, however gruffly they did it. As he watched Hank drive away, he catalogued the memory and put it in a folder unironically labelled with a heart emoji. 

By the evening of 7 March, it had been five full days since Nines had last seen Gavin and Connor, and two days since Hank had left him his house keys. Nines came home early from the New Jericho Town Council and sat on the sofa with Sumo’s giant head in his lap. Daisy and Diane were with him too. His system was a little overheated with the dozens of preconstructions that his processors were churning out every minute. The constant freezing and resumption of his vision left him thoroughly disoriented and uneasy.

North had issued an advisory through the android communication hive: _“Android people of the state of Michigan. This is a public safety message regarding the organised human movement that has anonymously threatened and carried out acts of violence against our people. The Android Crimes unit of the Detroit Police Department is leading the charge against the main perpetrators. The New Jericho leadership has been working directly with the Federal Government to deal with the individuals apprehended so far and to ensure that justice is served. Under my leadership, the Android Guard is performing active patrols and remains operationally ready to respond to any calls for assistance. We ask that you do not fear, but that you remain vigilant. We advise that you defer late night activities for the time being. Travel only with trusted companions, human or android. Secure your lodgings, and seek assistance from security model androids to do so if you need to. Look out for one another, and report any missing persons to the hive immediately. Stay safe, stay well. We will be in touch.”_

Nines hadn’t realised things had escalated to this point. Markus had given him the go ahead for a lot of the governance and New Jericho township development work, so he’d assumed the leadership was not deterred by the threats posed to them. He felt somewhat foolish. But he was the one who had made it more than clear that he was not interested in being part of the defence. The spectacle he’d created at the Manfreds’ home in December was evidence enough, and they’d all let him be after that. Diane brought him out of his thoughts, “Your human from the police force. Gavin. Didn’t you say he’s in charge of investigating this anti-android movement?”

“He’s not _my human_ , Diane. But yeah he is. With Connor.” 

“Okay. But he’s definitely your _something._ Has he reached out to you since that night?” 

“No.”

“Didn’t you say they were away this week… tracking down the kingpins? Red Ice trail?” 

“Yes. God, I hope you haven’t been going around telling people all of that!” 

She flipped her pale purple hair in annoyance, “Don’t take me for a fool just because I’m not a _state-of-the-art prototype._ At least that gives me the right to sit here doing nothing while our entire species is under threat.” 

“Where the hell did that come from? What am I supposed to be doing, exactly? Shall we join North’s pack of bloodthirsty Tracis and run around town with no actual clue what’s going on?”

“You’ve got a smart comeback for everything. You’ll find every way of flipping people’s words around and throwing them back in their faces. So answer me this. You could single-handedly put this entire matter to rest within _HOURS_ if you just _tried_. So why have you let it drag on for months and left lesser androids and humans to fight the battle in your place?”

“In _my_ place? The whole point of the Revolution was to be free from our core programming!”

“This is different, Nines. The Revolution freed us from being machines. Tools and playthings of the establishment. Connor didn’t stay on with the DPD out of compulsion. It was a choice to use his abilities responsibly.” 

“Don’t talk to me about that righteous bastard.” Nines stood up angrily. Sumo barked indignantly as his head slid off Nines’ knee. He jumped onto Daisy’s end of the sofa and curled into her side. She ran her hand through his thick fur, ignoring the argument unfolding before her. 

“Maybe we should talk about him. Why are you here? In his neighbourhood. Getting close to his father. His dog. His colleagues. His friends. His partner. You’ve done everything but actually talk to the man. Maybe if you did, you’d be less of a selfish asshole about using your abilities.” 

Before Nines could open his mouth and destroy the friendship, Daisy switched on the television. She tuned into a live broadcast from a local news station. _“-happening as we speak. The Detroit Police Department has just intercepted a cross-border deal on a very significant quantity of Red Ice. Early reports say the amounts range from eight to ten thousand tons of the illegal substance. DPD officers have seized the shipments and are now performing an extensive sweep of the docks for further caches of Red Ice or any perpetrators who may still be in hiding. A full movement control order has been issued. The public is advised to avoid the area and take note of road closures from West Torrance Avenue up to the -”_

“That has to be it. Such a huge seizure of Red Ice, with the entire area blockaded. The main operation is probably on now.” 

“What are you going to do, Nines?” 

“What do you mean, Diane? What should I do? I am a civilian, just like you.” 

Daisy spoke up suddenly, “North’s Guard is on standby near the location, with a SWAT unit. The militia leaders are definitely somewhere around those docks. I can’t really tell from the chat logs… don’t ask, I don’t know who leaked them into the hive… but it seems like they’re ex-military. Probably soldiers displaced by androids.” 

“Sounds dangerous, Nines. Ex-military. Bunch of disgruntled and deadly humans. Even the SWAT team is up on the roof of the Cyberlife Warehouse. There’s probably more of them than the DPD accounted for. Wonder how Gavin is.” Diane lounged across the sofa. She knew exactly what she was doing. The quieter of the pair for the most part, Diane had been content to let Daisy do the talking and deal with the outside world for as long as they’d both been alive. It was only with Nines that she spoke up and challenged the status quo. He appreciated that more than he could put into words. 

Nines closed his eyes and collapsed into the cushions. “What do I do?”

“Just go. Let the programming kick in. And don’t think too much. The only existence you’ve known is that of deviancy, so don’t worry about coming out of this… a machine. You’re too strong for that. Trust me. Trust Daisy. We’ve seen you since that first night at Cyberlife Tower.”

“Go Nines. You’ll save a lot of people from getting hurt if you step in now.”

_March 8, 2039 - West Torrance Avenue, Detroit_

A block away from the Cyberlife Warehouse, Nines stepped out of an autonomous taxi and adjusted his sleeves. Police cars lined the streets and officers stood by to wave away any pedestrians. He switched on his anti-detection systems and kept to the street corners. At the back entrance of the warehouse, he walked up to a uniformed human officer and asked for Captain Fowler. The officer looked at him in surprise and turned to ask his colleagues if they were expected to notify the Captain of such a visitor. Taking advantage of the confusion, he slipped through the electronic police tape and strode purposefully towards the main building. Deciding that entering it would add unnecessary complexity, he scaled the side wall of the warehouse and pulled himself onto the roof. It shocked him a little, how easily these actions came to him… but he suppressed the feeling of uncertainty. As reported by Daisy, members of the Android Guard stood on the rooftop with one of the city’s SWAT units. Nines spotted North talking to a human in tactical gear. Breaking his promise to himself to never scan others without consent, he identified the man as Captain Allen of SWAT Unit 32 of the DPD. Nines steeled himself and walked into the small crowd.

“Hello. Looks like you could use a hand?” 

“Nines! What on earth are you doing here? How did you locate us? This is an active police operation. Why are you here?” 

“Commander Manfred, who is this?”

“Allen, this is… RK900. He goes by Nines. He’s part of the New Jericho team. Works on our governance strategy and township planning. Markus brought him on board after he led the android rehabilitation efforts in the aftermath of the Revolution.”

“Hi Captain Allen. Let me know how I can help here. Where should I be looking? I’m clocking some activity due… west of where we’re standing?” 

“Commander... is this the RK model you were telling me about? The last one?”

“Yes. The successor to RK800. Military rather than police programming. Stronger, faster and more efficient in every way. He’s not been very... cooperative about joining any of our forces though. I have no idea what he’s doing here.” North looked at him scathingly. 

“North, come on. I’m sorry. Look I’m here now. What’s the plan?” Nines held out his hand beseechingly, hoping she would interface with him and show him what she knew. Instead, she took half a step back and slapped him across the face. Allen leapt aside in shock.

“You’ve got some nerve coming here after all you’ve said and done. Where were you three months ago? You could have stopped so many deaths from taking place. Why are you here now, at the very end of all our efforts? Don’t tell me you’ve come to bask in the glory! Or have you suddenly decided you care for Connor? What do you want? Tell me straight and spare me the theatrics. I don’t have time for your bullshit tonight!” She was completely livid. Nines didn’t miss the rifle hanging off her back and held out his hands in an attempt to placate her. 

There was a beep as the service elevator slid open. “Nines? Kid? What are ya doin’ here?” Captain Fowler and Hank stepped out. Both looked absolutely exhausted and at their wits’ end.

“Hank! Fowler! Thank goodness. Tell them I can help. I have visuals on the building exterior from all the cameras in the vicinity. I can roughly tell where there’s activity, and if I get a little closer I can get you the exact locations of all the perps. Actually, I should be able to bring them in pretty easily. Seems like there’s fifteen of them, based on the frequency and location of shots I’m hearing.”

“Are you out of your goddamn mind!? Fifteen!? Four detectives and two officers have been in there for over an hour and the situation hasn’t moved an inch. This group is no bunch of ordinary thugs. They can put up a real fight. They even have the equipment to jam and block communication signals. We’ve only been able to reach Connor. He said he’ll let us know when to move in. Right now there’s significant danger to all the port employees who were working at the building. Give him time to get them to safety and contain the situation. We move only when he says he can’t hold on.” 

“Is Gavin with Connor?”

Fowler exchanged looks with Hank. He turned to Nines with his hands outstretched, “We know they went into the situation together, but we’re not sure what the current status is. I’m sure if it was something to worry about, Connor would have told us.” 

“I’m going. Give me a… gun. That looks like it’ll do the job. Could I borrow that?” Nines pointed to a rather large assault weapon held by one of the SWAT team members. 

“Have you ever handled such a firearm before, Nines?”, Captain Allen asked with an expression of clear amusement. Nines stared at it and noted that it was a 2035 variant of the HK416, a classic and longtime favourite of the US military. In an instant he knew everything there was to know about it. From its firing mechanism to the list of wars it had been used in.

“I’ve never held so much as a starter pistol. But I’ll figure it out.” An authoritative tone had crept into his voice. Allen nodded at North and looked at Fowler, who inclined his head slowly. Nines had his green light. 

“I don’t have a plan. I don’t need to have a plan. I will walk in. And they won’t see me coming. It will be impossible for them to see past my stealth systems. They may fire at me when they see me. But that will make little to no difference. Bit of chassis damage at the most. I will neutralise the threat and help your people bring the port employees to safety. Also, yeah, I do have a very personal motivation for being here tonight. I don’t care what you think of me. And yes, I know how selfish I am.” He held his hand out and the SWAT member wordlessly handed his weapon over. Nines shouldered it and stepped smoothly off the side of the warehouse. He landed like a cat and began to run towards the building on the west side of the docks. A metallic crunch told him that North had jumped after him onto a car. She hurried alongside him.

“If you come with me, we lose the element of surprise. They’ll see or hear you.” 

“I’m not coming all the way. I just wanted to say that I get it. Not wanting to be a product of your programming. I really understand. And as for coming here tonight. I know what it’s like to want to fight for someone you love. But none of that makes me think you’re any less despicable.” 

“Anything else?”

“Watch for the recoil on that thing. And the noise. You think you know what to expect… but the first time… is really something.” 

She stopped in her tracks and he continued to run. “Knock ‘em dead, Nines!” 

He picked up the pace and in no time at all the eight-storey port authority building came into view. Only one entrance and exit was accessible. It was guarded by two masked gunmen. The side access points of the building were blocked by heavy vehicles. Nines’ scans showed him that the seventeen port employees, both human and android, were huddled in the basement with a police detective who was administering aid to a man who had been shot in the leg. Connor had done his job well. Nines scanned upwards. Four gunmen were on the second floor, being kept more or less at bay by two human police officers. Six other militia members were scattered across various floors in the building. Nines detected Connor on the eighth floor, kneeling beside an unconscious figure. His thirium pump contracted tightly… and released. It was another detective he didn’t personally recognise. On the roof, there was an abandoned sniper rifle, and the sound of shots being exchanged. Gavin and two militia members. The two sides were closely matched.

Nines then knew what he had to do. It came automatically to him. Second nature. He walked towards the entrance and cleared it completely undeterred. (North was right about the recoil though. The first time was… special). He climbed up the staircase to the second floor and crouched behind the two police officers, who nearly fainted with shock. ( _“Hello, I’m Nines. I don’t think we’ve met before. Hold your fire one second, please)_ He leaned into the corner that the gunmen were holed up in and… made quick work of them. And then he ascended the next few floors, painting the walls red as he went. It was shockingly, scarily easy for him. Nines noticed that Connor was now on the roof next to Gavin, and that the firing had paused. _Probably figured their time was up._ He walked past the injured detective who was lying on his side, a tourniquet applied on his chest. _Still breathing._ Nines scanned through the brick and mortar and saw the two remaining militia members sitting back to back behind an air handling unit. Nines swung himself through an open window and climbed onto the roof with ease. He then approached the perpetrators with the calm demeanour of someone looking for directions… and simply flung them off the roof. _Why waste a pair of perfectly good bullets?_

Nines turned his stealth systems off and dropped his weapon. The cool night breeze ruffled his hair as he texted North a thumbs up emoji. He looked skyward and smiled to himself. Perhaps she'd been right all along.

“Nines?” 

The two men emerged from the nook they’d been hiding in, each with a glock loosely held in their grip. They looked absolutely _wrecked._ Gavin sported several days of stubble and a large cut along the right side of his jaw. He seemed to be supporting most of Connor’s weight and had wrapped an arm around his waist. Connor… was a vision in blue. Thirium poured out of several holes in his chassis. “Nines”, he repeated hollowly. His LED was a whirl of colours.

“I was really missing my two favourite detectives, so I came to pick you up from work.” 

A mix of expressions washed over their faces. Thorough confusion, shock, relief and strangely, sadness. Connor fell to his knees with a groan. Gavin murmured in his ear and readjusted him to lie on his back. Nines stepped forward instinctively to help, but Gavin held up a hand. “Just give him a minute, Nines. He’ll be okay. It’s not the thirium loss as much as the height of the roof. He tends to get a little… dizzy, in places like this, for lack of a better word.”

“The Android Guard will be here in less than two minutes. They have someone to fix him up.” 

“Can you get Hank?” 

“North has informed the DPD.” 

Nines watched Gavin crouch over Connor, holding his hand. Something about the sight warmed his biocomponents… but also sent a stabbing sensation through his midsection. 

“What a complete bloodbath, Nines! _This_ is what you meant when you said you didn’t need a plan? For the love of RA9!” North had run up the fire escape. “Is not one of them alive?” She looked over the edge of the building. “And did you throw these two or did they fall? Wow! Just wow… It’s not just the way you dress, you really are a complete gangster!” 

“Hey, you said to knock ‘em dead!”

“That was an _expression._ Something you taught us back when you used to do those crazy nights at our place. Thought you’d appreciate it. But oh, what a MESS you’ve made. I just hope there’s enough evidence and testimony on record so we don’t need them alive for the case to be processed properly.”

Connor attempted to reassure North but was quietened by the Android Guardsman who knelt at his side. The field medic used a laser torch to seal the holes on Connor’s chassis and pumped thirium into his synthetic veins. 

Gavin straightened up and walked over to Nines. “What exactly is this?” 

“What do you mean?”

“You always refused to join any of the defence teams. Not the DPD. Not the Android Guard. And nothing federal of course. You never wanted to do the one thing you were designed to do. What made you suddenly show up and go on a rampage today? Huh? You went from an administrator to a fucking Terminator!” 

“I don’t know, Gavin. I watched the news and felt like I had to do something. You’re right, I never wanted any part in this… _violent_ line of work you’re in. But today, I felt like I had to step in.”

“Why?” 

“Aren’t you happy I-”

“Why. Did. You. Come. Nines.” 

“I came… for you. I couldn’t sit back and do nothing knowing you were in danger.” 

Gavin looked even more shocked. He shook his head and started to turn away. Nines caught his hand and stroked his fingers with his thumb. Gavin gently freed himself from Nines’ grasp, “I can’t do this right now.” 

Connor had his repairs completed and stood up gingerly. He took a few steps, ascertaining that all was back to normal. Gavin turned towards him and pulled him into a bear hug. Nines watched mutely as the door to the fire escape was flung open and other members of the DPD piled onto them. Hank pushed through the others and extricated his son. He scolded and cried and laughed. Fowler embraced Gavin, and went through a remarkably similar series of reactions. 

Nines closed his eyes. When he opened them, he found North and Captain Allen standing in front of him. “Tell us exactly what happened. Play by play. The Guard will take it from there.”

Nines brought them through each and every one of his actions, and was left with the feeling that even this… what he’d been designed to do… was something that he wasn’t any good at. Sure he’d gotten the job done, but apparently, following programming wasn’t all there was to it. So it seemed then that he completely lacked judgement and actually, common sense. Perhaps that’s what was in some of the system files he’d deleted on the night of his awakening. 

North released him after satisfactorily documenting the events. She would take responsibility as the leader of the Android Guard, and would claim any act that could be deemed as wrongdoing as her own. Allen bowed his head in farewell and gathered his men into their vans. Nines sat on a curb and watched the DPD depart as a clean-up crew arrived. The crushing feeling of loneliness was back again. Ironically, it always seemed to come right after intense interactions with people. Nines looked down at the tarot cards inked onto his hands and the gold chains on his wrists. He did look a damn fool. A dozen error messages popped up in his head. He dismissed them all. Nines ripped the chains off his wrists and from around his neck, lacerating his synthetic skin with the force he used. He tossed the delicate chains onto the black tarmac of the street, where they glittered like stars. _Tomorrow’s someone’s lucky day. Or not. If they carry the kind of fortunes that seem to follow me around,_ Nines thought savagely. He closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment. All the beautiful markings on his skin disappeared, including the latest addition near the crease of his right elbow. Nines stood up, buttoned up his shirt completely and started to walk straight to the New Jericho Town Council. 

There was one thing that he hadn’t completely failed at yet. So it merited one last effort. Nines pledged to put every waking hour into it. He would continue what he had started right from the moment he’d woken up for the first time. He would build that town. And it would be beautiful. Fuck everyone else. Things always went wrong when others were involved. Liana Manfred. Connor. North. Gavin Reed. Literally anyone who got too close, or anyone he wanted to be close to. Maybe this was the social protocol he’d always lack. Maybe it wasn’t about socialising, but about being able to fit into a society. Nines was clearly not suited for that, so there was no need to try anymore. _No need to be interesting. No need to be funny. No need for the song and dance. Just get the work done and make peace with the emptiness._

Nines arrived at the Town Council at 3AM that night. It was the hour he would leave from work daily for the next three months.

  
  
  


_June 13, 2039 - New Jericho Town Council_

In the week after the raid, there was radio silence. No one attempted to establish contact beyond Daisy and Diane texting him that they were glad he was alright, and North forwarding him the formal thank you email sent to the Android Guard from the DPD. Nines let Sumo back into the Andersons’ house and left the key under their doormat. He busied himself in work, embracing a life of monotony and revelling in the numbness that came with it. And then people started to reach out to him. Hank made daily attempts to intercept him on his way to and from work, despite the odd hours. ( _“I can’t talk right now, Lieutenant. I’ve an international call in ten minutes.” “Lieutenant? What’s gotten into you, boy!”_ ) The DPD officers he’d befriended sent him texts and memes and invitations for nights out. (And in Tina’s case, a string of tearful cat gifs after he’d left her on read.) Gavin came by one weekend that Nines decided to work from home, presumably tipped off by Hank. Nines spoke to him at the door.

“Nines. Please can we talk? You’ve not answered any of my calls or messages. I’m worried about you… about us.” 

“I’m just really busy. There’s more going on right now than my processors can cope with.”

“Drop it. Look, I’m sorry I didn’t react the best possible way on that rooftop. You scared me. You threw everyone off completely. You have no idea what a different person you were. But… I’m over that and I’m here now.” 

“What exactly are you here for? Connor finally gave you his blessing?” 

“We haven’t… talked about that.” 

“Then I guess you and I have nothing to say to each other either. You’ll have to excuse me. There’s ten different buildings that need to go down and come up again this month.” With that, he closed the door in the face of the one person he knew he would love till the end of his days. _It’s for the best_ , he told himself.

It took him all of three months to achieve some modicum of peace. He initially hadn’t been able to help but replay the events over and over in his head. Every shot and every subsequent criticism from North. The red spatters on the walls. The look on Gavin’s face. Connor drenched in thirium. Nines had felt the closest thing his species could feel to depression. Most unbearable were the crystal clear visuals of his one golden evening with Gavin. He simultaneously cursed and cherished the perfection of android memory. Nines couldn’t decide whether or not he was thankful that they’d had the chance to become friends and enjoy even a short time together. There were days he genuinely contemplated resetting himself. 

Work was the saving grace of his existence. Android homes were being constructed in record time and the development of the industrial estate was nearly complete. The old stadium which had served as their base camp in November had been designated as the site of the memorial for fallen androids. Artists under the patronage of the Manfred Estate were working on the giant LED design. (Nines pushed away the memory of how the idea had come to be.) The only thing left to do was secure approval to demolish the stadium. Yes, work was the saving grace… for the most part. 

There was a knock on his open glass door. He closed his eyes in resignation. It was his earnest but incompetent assistant Axel, again.

“What? What’s the matter? What is it this time that you couldn’t let me know over interface?”

He knew he was being unduly curt, but a part of him felt it was right to let his displeasure at the constant interruptions be known. How else would they be able to reinforce professional working standards? Androids were striving hard to establish their identity and achievements independent of human instruction and this oaf couldn’t think two steps ahead without needing his hand held. _Literally and figuratively_ , Nines thought with a grimace.

“There are guests here to see you, sir. From the police. May I check if you’d be—”

“You’re kidding. The second time this week. Why do they need these many iterations of the same damn interviews? How many official investigation hours to get to the bottom of a textbook case of property fraud? And the public is paying for all these wild goose chases with tax money! Tell them to speak to Penny from Admin. I’ve put my recording from Monday on file. Let her work with those details. I have no interest in repeating myself.”

“No, no. It’s not the same case. Actually it might not be a case at all.” 

Nines felt his stress levels climb even higher, but let his assistant continue. 

“There’s two of them here. Believe they wanted to personally invite you to the Reform celebration event held by the DPD. As an esteemed guest representing the android public service. I thought to warn -sorry- inform you of their names. Um.. a Detective Gavin Reed, and a… uh… uh… Detective Connor Anderson.”

He felt his lip curl. His thirium pump stuttered. So Connor had finally come to see him. But why now? Of all random and inconsequential days, and with the vaguest and strangest pretext. What test had Nines finally passed? More importantly, who the fuck did he think he was?

But before Nines could formulate a single response, Axel’s eyes glazed over. He had just answered a phone call. _Maximum of three rings. Conveying an impression of readiness but not overzealousness._ Nines buried his face in his hands. 

“Thank you for informing us. We will wait for your favourable response pending processing of the approval in three weeks ti—”

The goddamn Detroit Building Authority. Nines vaulted across his desk and snatched his assistant’s wrist, forcing a manual interface. He dismissed a warning message from his ethics programming about violating an employee, and proceeded to yell directly in his face.

“This is RK900. Nines. Yeah, yeah, we’ve met before. Now stop giving us the runaround! We’ve submitted all of the documentation and presented evidence of zero conflict of interest. There’s nothing on your website to— what? No, we did that last month! Yeah! Yes, the three forms with the blue border. Okay. Okay. No, no.. that’s impossible. The contractor can’t wait that long! Hello? HELLO!!? FUCKING HELL THEY HUNG UP ON ME.”

He dropped Axel’s hand. The poor android looked positively catatonic now. 

“That’s it. The approval is delayed. Meaning we might as well not have it. We’ll have to put the whole memorial project on hold. The one thing Markus had asked me for. Fuck! FUCK!!”

In a burst of uncalculated rage (and the influence of too many vintage Hollywood films), he spun around to violently kick his desk. It flew right through the back wall, leaving a neat rectangular cutout in the brickwork. A heavy crunch and the wails of multiple car alarms followed soon after.

“Holy shit.”

Nines turned around as slowly as he could to face the two police detectives standing outside his office. He closed his eyes in resignation once more. “Fuck me.”

To Connor, it was like looking in a mirror. Except, everything had gone wrong. His worst nightmare come true. The terrifying and destructive machine that he was built to be. The real reason he hadn’t been able to properly look his successor in the eye till date. 

To Gavin, it was also like looking in a mirror. Only, metaphorically speaking. The exact same kind of mess he was. A prodigious and hardworking individual at wit’s end after ceaseless struggles to navigate the bureaucracy impeding his mission. And also, incredibly brash, foul-mouthed and completely lacking impulse control. 

Nines could only stare dumbly at Gavin. Androids weren’t supposed to feel pain, but he could have sworn he did. His chest felt like it had been crushed in a scrap yard. 

“Sorry to catch you at a bad time, Nines. Connor and I felt it was only right to drop the invitation to you personally. We even asked Fowler for time off to do it. Connor did, actually.”

Connor rearranged his expression from obvious shock into something that resembled concern. _Must have forgotten to update his famous social protocol_ , thought Nines bitterly. 

“We didn’t want you to just find it in your email or something. It’s not… a formality. We - I didn’t want to invite you as a New Jericho representative. I… was hoping you’d be there as my personal guest. It would… mean a lot.” 

He looked uncertainly at Gavin, as if waiting for the man to provide some other conversation starters. At this obvious expression of vulnerability, a great number of notifications popped up in Nines’ system. Some came from his core programming. Several were a result of deviancy, or essentially, the code defining the bigger person he wished to be. 

“Connor. Gavin. I’ll be there. You won’t have to ask me twice. And I think we’ve got many more conversations we need to have outside of that police party of yours. I’m sorry I haven’t been… available for those. No decent excuse, so let’s just chalk it up to plain old ego and me being a dick. I’m sorry. I’ll come by your house later, Connor. We’ll… talk. But for now, I have to head downstairs _pronto_. I’ll catch you later, unless one of you moviestar detectives can help me make whatever the hell I just did look like an accident.”

  
  


_June 14, 2039 - Michigan Drive, Detroit_

The day had finally come. Bizarrely, inconsequentially. But Connor had reached out and that was all that mattered. Nines stood awkwardly in the Andersons’ living room. Alone with his predecessor for the first time. He looked closely at Connor, watching as he refilled Sumo’s water dish and patted his head. But for the LED on his temple, he looked so human… so gentle. He also looked tired, though that was technically impossible. Something deep within his brown eyes suggested that he was... suffering. 

“Sit down, Nines. Though, I don’t know why I’m asking. This is practically… your home too.” 

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve become a part of our lives. We never expected you to. But you did. And now there’s no turning back… But don’t get me wrong, I’m very glad that you came to live here.”

“You are?”

“I am. It might not seem that way, but I like having you around. You make things interesting. Or at least you used to. Now you spend more time in that old factory than you do at home.” 

“That’s the New Jericho Town Council. And it’s the last place I’ve got to make some kind of difference to this world. I don’t seem to be good at anything else.” 

“That’s not true at all. You don’t know the light you bring to people’s lives. To Gavin, especially… he can’t stop talking about you. He’s been a whole different person since the two of you met. You’ve made Hank a happier man, too. And me. And this old boy, Sumo.” 

“So what actually went wrong? Why have you been avoiding me since the beginning? Why haven’t we had a normal conversation till now?”

“Nines… I struggle… with deviancy, everyday. I have to fight to keep it. I’ll be fine for most of the day, and then suddenly I won’t be able to get around some stupid safety protocol or some old Cyberlife directive. It takes… so much processing power to find the backdoor exit in those programs. I’m tired of it. I’ve gone to see the software engineers several times, but they say it’s too dangerous to even try to help me. I simply died too many times before the Revolution for my memory to remain stable should something go wrong.” 

Nines sat frozen on the couch. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. 

“When I first saw you, I didn’t know what to make of you. You seemed so… in control. I couldn’t be sure if you’d even been turned. As time went on, the way you acted, the way you talked… none of it made sense. You were good at everything. Work. Being with people. Being RUDE, even. Everything was so fluid and perfect with you. I was scared. I couldn’t be sure if you were another one of Cyberlife’s cruel tricks or someone who just had a better grip on reality than I did. When you saved our lives at the docks, I realised that it was the latter. You really know how to keep Amanda in her place.” 

“Um… who’s Amanda?”

“Oh, maybe yours has a different name. The AI program that guides your asynchronous processing, especially in stasis? Mine is called Amanda. The graphic interface she uses is a Zen Garden. I don’t know if that’s what Cyberlife built for you too.” 

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have a garden. Stasis is stasis. There’s just… nothing. Do you mean to say that you’ve been sharing your system with another AI?” 

They both looked at each other in equal confusion, and then Connor buried his head in his hands with a moan. His amber LED sparked red. Nines had never seen him express so much emotion before.

“Connor. All those times you look like you’ve zoned out. Is that where you’ve been… this Zen Garden place?” 

Connor looked up and nodded. Torment was written across his face. _Oh what a poor, miserable creature he’s turned out to be. Fighting everyday to keep control of himself. Oh no._

Nines held out his hand. “Show me where. Don’t access the place, but show me where.” 

Connor hesitated for a brief moment and accepted the interface. A flood of images and sounds and sensations came through first. A gunshot accompanied by a burst of thirium. The booming bark of a St Bernard. Hank’s strange and colourful shirts. A female android kneeling with the barrel of a gun pressed to her forehead. A punch in the gut and a harsh glare from a familiar scarred face. Thousands of androids marching through the streets of Detroit. Markus’ reassuring voice. Nines’ face. Nines’ hand tattoos. Nines kissing a beautiful redheaded girl on a dancefloor. Crime scene photographs. Gavin punching an anti-android demonstrator. A warm hug from Hank. And then… a map of Connor’s system architecture came through. Police file directories. Investigation and forensics modules. Cyberlife’s common android programming. And… Connor’s core system modules. 

Nines held on to Connor’s hand and looked through the architecture map carefully. Connor said nothing in response to the invasion. His eyes were closed. His LED spun yellow. Nines then brought up a digital twin of his own system and let Connor see what he looked like on the inside. It was strangely intimate, and somewhat amusing that most of their thoughts were about the same set of individuals. Nines layered the two system maps and noted that he had a lot of subsystems that Connor didn’t. He ignored those and focused on the core modules they shared, and highlighted the differences in red. Connor paid rapt attention. Soon, it became apparent where exactly Amanda resided within his system. “This is all the stuff I got rid of before I even opened my eyes, Connor.” 

“How did you know?” 

“I didn’t. I had no idea what those modules were until today. The deviant virus just attacked them, and I deleted them all before everything in their vicinity got corrupted to some point of no return. It was a quick call I made with the limited information I had back then.” 

“Do it for me, too.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. There’s nothing about her that I want in me. I never want to see that horrible garden again. I want to process things on my own. Without her watching me all the damn time. I couldn’t figure out where she lived on my own. So I couldn’t throw her out. But you can see where she is. Do it now. Please. I trust you.” 

So Nines did. Within seconds, there was relief spreading across Connor’s face. “She’s gone. She’s really, finally gone.” He flopped into the cushions of the couch, looking every bit like someone saved from drowning. “I think I’m going to sleep now.” 

Nines released Connor’s hand gently and grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch to throw over him. He patted Sumo on the head and started to leave. A part of Nines felt relieved at having finally come to this resolution. Solving the mystery that was Connor, and even saving him from the last vestiges of Cyberlife’s control. Another part of Nines felt annoyed. He had gained nothing from this. No explanation. No context. No meaning. Nines was disappointed. Connor had turned out to be even more broken than he was. He would have to find his purpose on his own after all. 

“Nines?”

“What?”

“Talk to Gavin.” 

Nines turned around and watched as Connor drifted into the first peaceful stasis of his life. Was this really what had kept them apart? The annoyance flared stronger. _No, I don’t think I will._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun, yet frustrating chapter to write. Please excuse any misrepresentations of facts about weaponry or software programming. I am not an expert in either of these areas =)


	5. OH NINES.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nines has made progress. Despite everything, he's proven himself to the world in mere months. But when it comes time to celebrate his achievements in building the world's first android township, he's in no mood to. In a final and desperate bid to find himself, he destroys everything he's worked for. And when the dust settles... he finds that there was nothing to be worried about in the first place. 
> 
> “I haven’t been alive very long, but I struggle with meaning and purpose every single day. It has been a fucking mess. I didn’t ask for this limitless existence, but it was granted nevertheless."  
> "You’re not scaring me off with any of this, by the way, Nines. If you think that whatever you’ve got going on in that computer of yours is a mess, then you haven’t met me at all. I am the trainwreck to end all trainwrecks. So let’s just put these past couple of months behind us, kiss and make up."

_ June 29, 2039 - Memorial for Fallen Androids, New Jericho Town, Detroit _

First there was nothing at all. An abandoned sports stadium in an old industrial estate. Nothing but a crumb of civilisation. And then there was magnificence. Shape, form, light and colour. A colossal metal loop soaring into the sky. A giant LED ring. It sat in a shimmering pool of water, forming a perfect infinity loop in combination with its reflection. An enduring symbol of androidhood. All around it gleamed renovated or redeveloped structures. Homes and places of business. The first Cyberlife store for androids had just opened its doors in the area too.

While the formal opening of New Jericho township would take place at a later date, there was a joint ceremony held to celebrate the official opening of the memorial and the reform of the Detroit Police Department. It had seemed fitting to combine these momentous pieces of the city’s history. The Jericho leaders and their extended crew had invited the DPD, various public representatives and the press to the event. Nines stood with Diane as he stared up at the impressive structure of the memorial. 

“You must be so happy that it’s finally complete. After all the trouble with the demolition approvals for the stadium.” 

“Yeah, I think it was a good thing I kicked my desk through the wall. If Markus didn’t have to ask what happened, he’d never have picked up the phone and called the Building Authority himself.” 

“Nines.” 

“Yes, Diane?”

“Never change.” 

“I second that.” Detective Gavin Reed stood before them. Nines chest contracted and he lost airflow for a moment. Diane traitorously floated away to join Daisy and Connor, who looked more at ease than ever before.

“I can’t believe this was like, just something I said and now it’s here. In real life. In this beautiful town that you built out of nowhere. I’m so proud of you, Nines.” 

“Thank you, Gavin. I… enjoyed bringing your idea to life.” 

It seemed an eternity ago. The casual suggestion over a bowl of cereal. The celebration that came after it. Against his better judgement, Nines had replayed those moments over and over in his head everyday. He was utterly besotted with the man, but he hardly knew him. They’d had three months of friendship, fooled around one night and then drifted apart. There was nothing to it. Three months just seemed longer than it was in the context of a nine month lifetime.

“What happened to your ink? All the pretty cards and numbers. The date…” Gavin touched the crease of Nines’ elbow where his thumbprint had briefly resided. Nines closed his eyes. 

“I guess I outgrew them.” 

“Really?” Gavin stepped closer and gripped his arm tighter. He leaned his forehead against Nines’ jawline. His lips brushed Nines’ skin as he whispered, “Put them back.” 

“Congratulations,  _ Nines.  _ You’ve done an amazing job.” They jumped apart as a statuesque figure in a low-cut black gown approached. “I’m so glad the design turned out the way we wanted. The artists certainly took their time but well, it all paid off.” She turned to Gavin in a whirl of flaming red hair. “Liana Manfred. Markus’ sister. I’ve heard so much about you, Detective Reed. It’s an honour.” Nonplussed, Gavin shook the delicate hand she held out. “Well, I must go and make my rounds.  _ Nines,  _ it was lovely to see you again.” She turned to go and added almost inaudibly under her breath, “Tell me, what does  _ he _ call you?” Both men stared after her with their jaws open.  _ Hate to see you go but love to watch you leave,  _ thought Nines.

“Why does she say your name like that?”

A deep flush of thirium appeared on Nines’ cheeks. “She… uh… gave it to me.” 

“Uh huh. Oh. OH. Wow. Okay. That bombshell. Wow. I guess I… can’t even be jealous it wasn’t me. Wow, Nines… never cease to amaze. You’ve got a real pair on you. Doing your boss’s sister.” 

“Yeah well, judgement’s never been my strong point.”

Gavin’s smile slipped and he reached for Nines’ hand. Nines nearly succumbed but for the sudden text message that popped into view. Markus wanted him and Connor to stand with the Jericho leaders as they addressed the press. “I have to go. Duty calls.”

They painted a formidable picture. The Jericho Four flanked by two Terminators. The faces of android leadership. Integrity. Efficiency. Strength. Kindness. Excellence. Humility. The press went through each one of them in turn, asking both personal and professional questions. In addition to the latest developments with the Android Guard, North spoke about her social work in rehabilitating Tracis like herself and ensuring proper employment conditions for those who chose to remain in the trade. Josh and Simon stayed away from work-related topics and spoke jovially about the new establishments they hoped to patronise in New Jericho Town. Markus expressed gratitude for the immense public support and announced that he and North would soon be adopting a human child. Connor addressed queries about the resolution of the anti-android militia case and when asked, said that he was most thankful for his family and friends. And then it was Nines’ turn. 

“You were the master planner and operations lead for this Memorial for Fallen Androids. The architectural design came from the Manfred School of Art, but it has been reported that the choice to build an LED monument was yours to begin with. What inspired you?” 

“Thank you for your question. This… was not my idea. It actually came from a very dear friend of mine. When I was working on planning this memorial, I wanted it to capture as many stories and represent as many lives as possible. I needed something universal. Something meaningful. I spent many processing hours on research, but everything seemed to fall short of the intent behind building such a memorial. I mentioned this to my friend. We… talk about anything and everything in life. We talk a lot of nonsense too, and for some reason, there are always gems of wisdom that emerge. He told me I should build an LED. So I did. Something simple but beautiful. A symbol that would always be relevant for androidkind. So I built it.”

Gavin stood in the audience with his DPD colleagues. Nines noticed Tina and Chris patting him on the back as he held back tears. Hank stood nearby, keeping an eye on Gavin discreetly.

“You seem to be a deep thinker with a true appreciation of the arts. Tell us, what do the detailed illustrations on your hands symbolise?”

Nines looked down with shock. He hadn’t realised when the tattoos had returned to his skin. He had no idea how, but it seemed that Gavin’s request had brought them back automatically. 

“These cards? Well, they mean nothing to me individually, but together, they make up all the possibilities the universe has to offer. As you know, life… to an android… has become theoretically unlimited. As long as there are part replacements, software upgrades and memory storage provisions available… we can live as long as we wish to. We no longer serve human purpose, so we have to create our own. I know I am not alone in feeling that this is… daunting. These cards help me distill the options available. Also… I think they look really nice.” 

The crowd tittered. Tears had begun to flow down Gavin’s face at this point. Hank rushed in and put an arm around him. Nines glanced sideways at Connor, who stood on the other side of the podium. He was watching Gavin with glistening eyes of his own.  _ Why have  _ they  _ become so emotional? _

“They do look nice! So what’s next for you, Chief of Strategy? We’re excited to see what more you will do to change the world.” 

The question floored Nines. He had preconstructed such a media query and easily rattled off a ready answer about bringing lessons from New Jericho into other android communities, but he was personally… lost for words. This could go on forever. He could keep working and keep building. The past few months had shown that he was ultimately good at what he did, and that hard work did pay off, but… when would it stop? Was there a deadline on self-actualisation? When would he have done enough? How would he even know if he was happy? And would he always be alone despite his best efforts not to be? When would life… make sense? How many more mistakes would he have to make? 

He was so overwhelmed with the spiraling of his thought processes that he failed to notice the small cluster of people waiting for him after the press conference. 

  
  


_ July 4, 2039 - Michigan Drive, Detroit  _

“It can’t hurt to try! Come on, Nines!”, the children egged him on. “It’s the fourth of July, for Chrissakes! If not now, then when?” 

The bottles were in line, the fuses had been laid. All he had to do was light one. What was he scared of? Some superficial skin damage? He knew he wanted to do it. The kids definitely wanted him to do it. He’d never seen fireworks before, not in real life anyway.  _ What even is real life? The inside of my head is all I know. What does it matter whether it’s a stock video or a memory I upload?  _ The last thought shook him to his core, and spurred him into action. Nines snapped his fingers to produce a flame and he stepped forward to the cheers and whistles from all the little neighbourhood scamps. He lit the first fuse, and within seconds, there was magic. The cul-de-sac was transformed into a riot of colour and noise. Nines’ LED flashed in sync and thirium coursed through his body. The children scrambled towards him, some wrapping themselves around his legs, some pulling at his sleeves. Each one of them yelled at top volume. It was a sensory overload in the most literal way - Nines’ sensors registered critical levels of light and sound, and triggered warnings to his system.  _ Which warzone was he equipped for exactly?  _ He snorted at the thought and smiled widely. Soon, all the gunpowder had burnt through cleanly and the smoke began to clear, revealing a stocky, middle-aged, and very recognisable figure with shoulder length hair.  _ Shit.  _

“Goddamnit, Nines! You just endangered this entire neighbourhood! And these stupid kids’ lives! We don’t have permits to set off fireworks here. The whole area code doesn’t allow it. The houses are built too close together for fireworks to be safely released! Aren’t your kind supposed to know that type of shit automatically?” 

“Evening, Lieutenant. Yeah, we do know shit automatically. If we’re interested in it. But I’m not interested in the intricacies of human law. What I could tell you though, is exactly how many coke bottles full of black powder gave me ten minutes of the pure childhood I’ll never have.” 

“Jesus Christ. You sound like Reed when you talk like that. I don’t have time for wallowing. Let’s go. I need to bring you down to the station to write you up for this mess you’ve made.” 

“What? You can’t be serious. Look at these little faces. Come on! ‘Sides, it’s not like you can really make me go anywhere.” 

One look from Hank and thirty three minutes later, Nines found himself sitting in an interview room, being handed a clearance form to sign. 

“Let this be the last time you pull this kind of shit, please. I’m getting too old to be writing up fines for possession and discharge of illegal pyrotechnics. Some Chief of Strategy you are! Where the hell did Cyberlife go wrong with you, boy? You’re saying and doing things even humans would consider insane!” 

“Oh, so I shouldn’t have an original thought in my mind?”

“That is not what I said. I know it’s rich coming from me, but you’ve been acting against all interests of self-preservation lately!”

The door opened without a knock, and two men stepped in without invitation. “What’s going on, Dad? Why are you in here on your day off? What happened to Nines?”, Connor asked. Gavin looked on in silence, his face impassive. Nines pointedly kept his eyes on the table. 

“It’s nothing. Our friend here decided to get a little celebratory with the urchins on our street.”

“Nines? Why? Is everything -”

“Hello Connor, it’s a whole  _ family  _ reunion now, isn’t it? Say, if we’re done here, can I go now, Lieutenant?” He thrust the forms into the hands of an aghast Hank Anderson and stood up. Out of the corner of his version peripherals he noticed Gavin’s face contort with emotion. Connor looked like he was having a glitch. 

“Yes, son. We’re done here. I’ll go get the car.” 

“No, thank you. Don’t bother. Night’s still young. I’ll find my own way home, eventually.” 

It turned out instead, that in approximately five hours time, he found himself back in the same interview room facing the human officer who’d brought him in and the android sergeant on duty that night. Both struggled to keep their facial expressions professional and devoid of shock. 

“What’mi in for this ti’, officer? Everything’sssss… a crime… these days. Suppose I’m lucky. Coulda been that idiot Connor again… and that handsome bastard Gavin… with his beautiful scars.” Nines’ voice had become distorted and metallic with the strain of whatever he’d been putting his throat to use for that night. His LED was a firm, unwavering red. He seemed to be running low on power too, given all the slurring. 

“Sergeant Wu. Shall I go get Connor? He’s working a case here tonight. Remote monitoring.” 

Wu had seen some of the strangest android behaviour since his days as a standard android police model helping with petty deviant crime before the Revolution. An android himself, he also thought he could sympathise with most things, even if he could not empathise entirely. Tonight’s detainee took the cake though. Wu found himself nearly wishing he could go back to being a machine and take orders, rather than have to determine how to process this case. He ran a hand through his synthetic black hair and nodded in agreement, “Yes, Jennifer. That would be for the best. Especially since there’s a personal connection too.”

“Personal?! For that you gotta be a person firs’!”

Officer Jennifer Reddy ignored this unruly outburst and walked out of the interview room. By the time she returned, Nines had put his head down, cheek against the cool metal table and retracted his skin. It felt calm and reassuring to receive empty and random static rather than the constant barrage of troubling information that kept triggering existential crises. 

“What’s the matter with him? Nines?! Nines!”

It was Gavin who strode into the room and crouched down to check on him. He felt Nines’ wrists and touched his forehead with the back of his hand as if checking a fellow human being for symptoms of fever. 

“He’s overheated. Where did you find him and why did you bring him here!? Serge!” 

“Officer Reddy answered a call from the proprietor of the Eden Club about an hour ago. Something about a disturbance and an uncooperative patron. She went down and found RK900 in one of the guest rooms with his gyroscope and navigation systems disabled. Couldn’t stand. Couldn’t walk. She had to ask the club staff to help get him in the car. He was verbal at the time though. Incredibly so. Now he’s gone a bit incoherent.”

Nines still had his cheek on the metal table and didn’t say anything to counter Sergeant Wu’s summary. Gavin stayed eye-level with him, remaining on his haunches. Connor had also entered the room, but stayed back and kept his distance.

“He hired three WR400 Tracis and one human male tonight. One of the Tracis happened to be the owner of the club. They all report the session having begun normally, with the only unusual request having been to disable all his calibration systems. The closest thing an android can feel to being intoxicated. There was nothing to indicate anything going wrong until the end of the session, when he simply refused to re-initialise and get up. As he was preventing the room from being used by another guest, the club owner asked the management to intervene, but they could not remove RK900. He… is a military grade android… he just jammed all of their communication systems and stayed put. Nobody but Officer Reddy attempted to move him as use of physical force could have triggered adverse or destructive reactions beyond even RK900’s control. He appeared completely agreeable to leave when she arrived, but made no attempt to regain his own control. Till now. Witness testimonies and club CCTV recordings show no evidence of foul play. This all appears to be his own… doing…”

At that, Gavin straightened up slowly and put his hand on Nines’ back. He looked at Connor. 

“Why did you ask for me, Sergeant Wu? There’s no crime. You could’ve just slapped a Drunk and Disorderly on him and let him go. Just like my father did earlier with the fireworks.” 

“Con, he can’t walk. He’s not letting himself walk. Something’s wrong. It’s also really not good to have a New Jericho rep found in the streets like this. Must’ve been quite a scene.” Gavin looked at Officer Reddy who nodded briefly. “Yeah, it’s bad business all around. So let’s just find a way to get this patched up, yeah?”

“He’s been like this for a while now, Gavin. I think he knew exactly what he was doing. At the Eden Club. At Markus’ house last December. When he moved onto our street. I think it’s because he really doesn’t know what to do with his life. He gave me hell for some time because he thought I’d figured out mine. But he couldn’t have been more wrong. Not that I could have helped much him anyway. Because we’re not the same. He’s much faster and more efficient than me by design, and a much bigger asshole by choice. We aren’t the same people, so we can’t have the same answers to our problems. He’s got to figure this out on his own.”

Nines remained unmoving and closed his eyes. 

Sergeant Wu stood up and jerked his head in the direction of the door. He left with Officer Reddy. It was left unsaid that they’d find some way to bury the detention under something else and make it disappear from official record.

Connor sighed and sagged against the wall. The weariness made him look entirely human, but for the amber LED on his temple. “You’re right. We should get this patched up. If I knew this would be waiting for me on the other side of deviancy, I’d have never even tried. I’m not even joking. Look at him! The most advanced war machine on the planet reduced to a static, stricken mess all because I was too busy confronting my own demons to talk to him.”

“Connor, it is only…  _ human _ … to hope. Nines realised quickly that he was lost in this world, and he held onto the hope that you’d help him navigate it, because you’d been alive longer, because you were built for a similar purpose, because you were the closest thing he thought to reach out to, because - I don’t know, he believed you would help, somehow. But it’s okay that you weren’t able to. It’s not your fault. Hell, it might… have even been mine. I tried to be a good partner and friend to you, and not run into his arms before you were even on talking terms with him… but I think I completely dropped the ball there. After I told him we should slow down for you, he just cut me off completely. And I don’t think I was very nice when he came to save us from those anti-android guys back in March.”

“Yes. We could have handled it all so much better. I really do regret what we’ve done, even if we didn’t mean badly. Especially after what he did for me… getting rid of Amanda… giving me my full freedom. But Gavin, neither of us should hold ourselves responsible for tonight.  _ He’s  _ the public representative who put his career and reputation on the line to get wasted at a sex club… and completely come apart… just to prove some kind of point. Stupid  _ prick…  _ Help me get him home. My place. I’ll watch over him and get his system back to normal. When he wakes up, Dad should be able to set him straight immediately. Something we should’ve done a long time ago.”

Connor wordlessly pulled Nines out of his chair and hoisted him into his arms. Gavin held the door open. No further words were exchanged.

  
  


_ July 5, 2039 - Michigan Drive, Detroit _

“Ohhh no. Oh nooooo. Oh hell. Fuck me. I’m dying. No. I’ve already died. Three years ago.”

“Hey welcome back, kid! Beginning to think we’d have to jumpstart you with the car battery.” 

“Oh don’t you dare plug me into that piece of shit, Hank.” 

“Good. I see we’ve stopped with the Lieutenant crap now. Only took some illegal fireworks and a bunch of hookers.” 

“Unghhh.” Nines attempted to sit up. The world swam before him. Notifications flooded his system and he felt several biocomponents send warning signals. A cool hand fell upon his forehead and the sensations slowed. 

“Wait, let me help you recalibrate. Your gyroscope has been down for over twelve hours.”

Connor maneuvered Nines into a sitting position and held his head for a second. Everything moved the right way up again. Connor shifted his hands to Nines’ shoulders. His breathing normalised. 

“Oh what have I done…” 

Hank sat down on the couch next to Nines. “You went on a bender. Had yourself a nice Fourth of July. It would have been un-American of you to not... do what you did.” 

Connor pushed him back gently against the backrest of the couch and released his grip. “Nines, I’ve taken the liberty of filtering your communications. For your own good. I used the same access points from our recent interface. I figured you’d not want to see… all the details.” 

“Yeah. I don’t. But tell me. What happened.” 

“You visited the Eden Club shortly after you were released from the station. You purchased a session with three -” 

“Long story short?” 

“You made a scene. Didn’t want to get up. The Club made the call. An officer from our station picked you up. Connor and Gavin brought you here. You slept through the day. You’re fine now. Physically, at least… The duty sergeant tried his best, but the pictures are everywhere. He managed to prevent videos from going up though. Your…  _ companions  _ were set to make a pretty penny from those vultures at Stratford Tower.” Hank spoke matter-of-factly, with no trace of judgement or amusement.

“Oh God. Kill me.” 

“That socialite girl. Manfred’s daughter. She talked to one of those gossip rags. About how you got your name. Said some crap about how she loved you but you dumped her for some hotshot policeman. Basically made you out to be some kind of sex fiend. And yeah. It’s a scandal now.”

Connor had the grace to look condolatory. “Markus has asked me to inform you that you’ve been placed on administrative leave until further notice.”

Nines buried his face in his hands. 

“It’s fine, kid. I think you needed the break anyway. You’ve been weird since that Memorial ceremony. Not that you weren’t weird before that…” 

“I’m sorry, Hank, Connor. I can’t thank you enough for helping me keep even these shreds of my dignity. Connor, I’m sorry you had to carry my ass home and -”   


“Save it, kid. Everyone falls off the wagon at some point. This house is the last place you have to apologise for something like that. We’re just glad you’re okay.” Hank pulled Nines into a gruff side hug and patted his hair. Sumo jumped onto the couch and licked Nines’ face. 

Connor smiled slightly, “It’s going to be alright, Nines. It will pass. I looked up the average duration of scandals involving public representatives. For transgressions such as yours, it is about eight weeks. Public memory will last for about fifteen weeks after that. You will easily be able to resume your work with little to no legal or financial repercussions.” 

“Oh geez, Connor! Haven’t I told you to stop talking like that? No girl is going to come anywhere near you if you keep that up… Nines, you got that Amanda out of his system… now you need to teach him how to replace her with a real woman… or man… or whoever he likes.” 

“Dad!”

Nines laughed into Hank’s shoulder. Connor reached out and put his hand over Nines’. Their skins retracted, and just like that, despite everything, the world seemed a much brighter and friendlier place. And then a pair of deep set, grey eyes appeared. A scarred nose. The smell of coffee and the spark of a cigarette lighter. Connor turned his head towards the window, in the direction of the cul-de-sac. Nines understood. He got up with a sigh. 

“Last mile, kid. And then you’re home.” 

Nines stepped out of the Andersons’ home into the sunset. His Mediterranean-style villa came into view, and his localisation system pinged with joy. He realised how much he actually loved it and stood in the middle of the street for a while, just admiring the quaint little features. The wraparound porch on which he spent so many evenings reading and watching out for the car that would drop Connor off and take a turn through the cul-de-sac. He thought of the man who would lean out of his window and yell, 

“Keeping it legal, Tincan 2.0?” 

“No. I’m afraid not.”

“Good thing I’m here then.”

They stared at one another for a moment, and fell into each other’s arms. Nines held onto Gavin so tightly it almost hurt. He didn’t complain though, and merely rubbed soothing circles onto Nines’ back. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We all do dumb things. What you did yesterday was an average night for me back in my Police Academy days. I once fell off the roof of our dorm after a party. Ask Tina.” 

Nines rested his face against Gavin’s hair. He inhaled deeply and smiled at the high levels of caffeine and nicotine detected instantly. He didn’t want to let go, but did so to give the human some breathing room. 

“Why’d you do it though?” 

“I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to feel something.” 

Gavin nodded. He reached forward to stroke Nines’ face. 

“Fair enough. But next time you want to  _ feel something _ , come find me. You won’t have to spend a dime.” 

“Just like that?” 

“Just like that. You’re not scaring me off with any of this, by the way, Nines. If you think that whatever you’ve got going on in that computer of yours is a mess, then you haven’t met me at all. I am the trainwreck to end all trainwrecks. So let’s just put these past couple of months behind us, kiss and make up. Let’s go. Life’s too short. And in your case, too damn long.” 

Nines walked over to his front porch and sat down. Gavin followed him into the yard. 

“I want to understand what happened. I now get what was going on with Connor… I still don’t fully understand his initial reactions to me, but I can appreciate the pain he was in. I think we’re… good now. Him and I. We might even be friends. But I don’t understand why you felt the need to push me away that night. What did our equation have to do with him?”

Gavin sighed and sat down next to Nines. “I didn’t know for sure if it would actually have any impact. He did react badly when he found out that night… you saw it. But when I made the call to stop…  _ even though I really didn’t want to stop doing what we were doing… _ it was because I didn’t want to take any chances with my partnership. It was this new, fragile thing that I wanted to protect. I have never had a good track record with working relationships, or relationships of any kind. So I wanted to shield my last shot at having one. It’s selfish, I know. But Connor had told me his fears and worries, and a lot of them had to do with you… so I did what I thought was the right thing. It wasn’t and I’m sorry.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm?”

“Mmm.”

The sun set a little lower, and they sat in silence for a few minutes.

“So what’s it like? Being his partner? Friend?”

“Hmm?” 

“When we interfaced… I gathered that you two got off to a pretty rough start when he first came in. But you seem… close... now. Total 180 from pointing a gun in his face. I mean I know that was before… he deviated… but still.” 

Nines had rolled a lot of questions into one. How Gavin chose to answer would be critical. He sighed and put a weary hand on the back of his scarred neck before answering. 

“Nines. First thing. Those early days are not my proudest moments. Hell, I’d say they were my weakest. Lowest point. I was a… miserable... fool at the bottom of a lifelong shame spiral. Constantly spouting crap in the hope that it would prevent people from noticing something was terribly wrong. But people did notice. Of course they did. And they stayed away. Everyone but T. Connor was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. The one guy in the precinct who couldn’t fight back, and I just zeroed in. I’m lucky he didn’t walk right through my front door and beat the living daylights out of me first thing after the Revolution. I know I would’ve. You would’ve.”

Nines exhaled in assent. 

“So, I guess, we just put it all past us. There was too much pain and grief, and also, hope and joy in this new world to hold onto anything personal beyond a point. I knew my grouse back then was never really about job security in a post-AI world. It was just me finding specific ways to hurt the people around me. Hank was an alcoholic, so I’d say the place stank of booze every time he was around. Chris was anxious about when his promotion would come round, so I’d pull rank in every work conversation we had. Connor was a machine at the time, so I’d pick on that and call him names. It was disgusting. It IS disgusting that I acted that way. As a grown man. As part of the police. Responsible for protecting lives. Instead I was ruining mine and everyone else’s around me. 

Not that it would make up for anything after the fact… I apologised. To everyone. I’d watched parts of the Revolution on TV, and it occurred to me that I didn’t have an ounce of the courage and determination those Jericho folks had. Or anyone who got onto the streets with them. I’d never had to defend my existence or justify my humanity and… and… fight for civil rights. Yeah I had a tough growing up and a tough job and a real hard time living with myself in my own head, but that was still nothing compared to what horrors were happening to thousands in this very city. So… it took a lot out of me, but I started trying to make things right the second I realised. I went to Fowler and ratted myself out on all the shitty things I’d done and took a couple weeks of suspension. When I came back, I braced myself for the worst, but everyone was extremely generous. They pretended like nothing had happened. It wasn’t like I was invited to dinner at the Andersons’ or asked to walk Tina down the aisle right off the bat, but they were open and friendly and allowed me the opportunity to rebuild our relationships. And I took it. Hundred and ten percent. I wasn’t a fool this time round. So slowly but surely… we all got where we are today.”

“Connor.” 

“Right. With him, yeah, it was exactly as I told you. He didn’t say anything when I apologised, but he put heart and soul into working with me when we got partnered. And I don’t just mean man hours. Of course. Fowler’s thinking was that he couldn’t continue to just be a walking forensics kit with a badge and needed to develop his own intuition and investigative senses. Hank was getting busier and busier with seniority. He wasn’t on the field as much. Being privy to top secret classified cases with Hank wasn’t fun for long, so Connor figured he needed a new partner. Someone who could help him develop that gut feel. So Fowler let him pick, and he picked me. I suspect that decision had as much to do with giving me a second chance, as it did with my solve rate. Like I said, generous.” 

Gavin paused to glance at Nines. His LED was pulsing between blue and yellow, and his eyes were fixed somewhere in the middle distance. Gavin decided it was safe to continue. 

“We work. You know. We believe in the same things. Principles of investigation. When to bluff during an interrogation. When to drop a lead even though it looks promising. How to balance each other out if it ever comes to a fight. Whole bunch of things. I’ve never kept a partner this long. And he makes work fun too. He’s a pretty funny guy. Mostly unintentionally. Got a good heart or thirium pump or whatever. You’d be hard pressed to see a Terminator if you ran into him at the park walking Sumo on a fluffy leash.” 

“Mmm.”

“Mmm?”

“And what would you see, if you ran into me?”

They were getting close to it now. They both knew it. This moment was something they had to persevere through. There was something on the other side that would make any awkwardness or embarrassment entirely worth it. They just had to hang on and push through. 

“I’d see myself.” 

The LED glowed a warm amber. 

“In the best possible way. Someone who knows pain and anger the same way that I do. Someone who refuses to be a victim of circumstance. An asshole with big dreams. Someone who wants to make his mark on the world, but in his own unique way. Not how anyone else intended for him to, but in his own goddamn way. The weirder, the better. You are so interesting to watch. I don’t know if you already know that, but it’s true. I never know what you’ll do next. That’s something that bothers me about most other people, but with you, it makes me feel more alive than I’ve felt in years.” 

Nines had turned to look him in the eyes. There was no trace of amusement or satisfaction. Gavin anticipated some quip or sarcastic response, but no banter came forth. The LED spun a myriad of colours. A full light show in the dimming evening light.

Gavin decided to keep up the streak of bravery lest it retreat after too long a pause. “So, what do you see? When you look at me?”

Nines methodically rearranged himself on the porch. He didn’t break eye contact, but made quite a business out of moving to sit cross-legged in front of Gavin. Placing his elaborately decorated hands flat on the wooden boards, he leaned forward. 

“I haven’t been alive very long, but I struggle with meaning and purpose every single day. It has been a fucking mess. I didn’t ask for this limitless existence, but it was granted nevertheless. I can’t wrap my head around what I’m supposed to do with all this time. Yeah, I try to help people and I’ve carved out something in the name of a calling or profession. But what marks my time? What separates one year from the next? What the hell does a vacation even mean? Okay, there’s things I enjoy doing. There’s people, both humans and androids, who bring light into my daily existence. But how sustainable is any of that? Hobbies have an expiry date and people have homes and families and lives to return to. Where do I draw the line between my pastimes and my real life? What does my life consist of? There’s days I foresee an end such as the one Hank planned for himself before he found a son in Connor. You know, when I finally realise I’ve tried everything there is to try in this world, and there’s no one left to talk to and it’s time to go.”

Nines’ LED was blood red. He took a breath he didn’t need, looked away for an instant, and closed his eyes. The LED cycled through a rainbow of colours and rested on a pale yellow. Gavin reached for Nines’ right hand, and was reciprocated with a firm grip. A beat later, Nines looked back at him. 

“So… when I look at you, believe it or not, I see meaning. It’s a lot to say of one person, I know, especially after the unfair expectations I had of Connor. I know, and I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be.”

“But yeah, I see meaning. You’re someone I could always have a real conversation with. Without even speaking at times. Which is strange, because you’re not— you know, but you run on the same frequency as I do, if that makes sense. We get each other. I really really liked spending time with you and that’s something I want to get back to doing… for a long time. There’s a connection between us that neither of us can deny, and words are starting to fail me now… so could we please just…” 

Nines bordered on laughter and very nearly fractured the moment when Gavin leaned forward decisively, cupped his cheek with his free hand and kissed him deeply. Every unanswered question and every one of Nines’ doubts faded away in that instant. He was home. Perhaps this is what he’d been made for. To sit on the front porch of his modest but tastefully decorated house on a warm summer evening. With strong arms wrapped around him, the gentle scratch of stubble on his cheeks and a teasing, but surprisingly delicate tongue against his. It was the biggest middle finger to the megalomaniacs at Cyberlife, a singular act of defiance and fitting response to anyone who’d ever questioned his existence, but above all, it just made sense. Nines decided to disable all tasks and processes running in the background of his system and pulled Gavin even closer. He had found an analog twin to his deep and complex psyche. An equal in strengths and weaknesses. Someone who matched him in likes and dislikes, behavioural quirks and sense of humour. A man who he could teach as much as he could learn from. Statistics could tell him of the rarity of such an occurrence, but Nines didn’t need that. Every fibre of his being was shouting at him to never let go. So he didn’t. Ever. 


	6. STARS ALIGNED

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EPILOGUE: One year after the Android Revolution, following a tumultuous journey, the Cyberlife RK900 prototype model known as Nines is exactly where he belongs.
> 
> “I love you very much, Nines. I didn’t expect to hear that you love me too. At least not so soon. But what do time and convention matter to us? I love you. I really do.”

_ November 11, 2039 - Michigan Drive, Detroit _

First there was nothing at all. And then there were fingers and lips and curls of hair skimming over his collarbone and heading steadily south. Over the inked wings of the goddess Nike… down her body… all the way to the keel of the ship on which she stood. And further below. Not a bad way to emerge from stasis, all things considered. Nines smiled and settled back into his pillows, fingers curling around the bedsheets in anticipation. The LED on his temple glowed bright blue and within moments spun into a shimmering teal - a colour rarely seen by the outside world. Thirium pump pounding and airflow regulators turned up to the maximum, he groaned and started to sit up. 

“That was quick.” 

“Oh, fuck you.”

“Okay. But let’s give it a minute. You look like you’re about to shut down any second.”

“Gavin, I love you.” 

“Damn right y—”, Gavin broke off, eyes widening at this unexpected addition to their usual morning banter. There were a few seconds of silence, and then Nines reached out to run his tattooed fingers over the scars and ridges on Gavin’s face. The synthetic skin had begun retracting from his fingertips. As Nines’ hand reached the trademark scar slashed across the bridge of his nose, Gavin caught it gently and pressed soft kisses to each glowing white knuckle. Nines remained silent, his LED still glowing blue. 

“I love you very much, Nines. I didn’t expect to hear that you love me too. At least not so soon. But what do time and convention matter to us? I love you. I really do.” 

Nines chose not to respond. He instead mimicked a human’s morning stretch and lay back down, pulling Gavin with him. More and more of the synthetic skin was retracting and reforming over different parts of the android’s chassis. The LED was as bright as ever, even in the daylight. Nines wrapped his arms tight around his — lover? partner? soulmate? (they hadn’t found a word meaningful enough to capture what they were to one another) — and kissed him passionately. 

Nines was an intense person. He had his moments of humour and sarcasm, but he was always very, very intense. He believed in enjoying life, but at the same time was adamant that it shouldn’t be wasted on trivialities. Gavin had realised early on that Nines was someone who might take his time figuring out what exactly he wanted, but would go after it the second he had even an ounce of clarity. Gavin had come to expect this assertiveness and the drastic changes in temperament that came with it. So while he had been initially startled by the sudden admission of love, Gavin was easily able to catch up to the mood Nines was in and reciprocate fully. It would seem like an odd role reversal to the outsider: a flighty android with a hundred different emotions, and a loyal human riding each wave dutifully. But to Gavin, it felt like karma, and exactly what he deserved for his decades of similar behaviour. He laughed quietly as he was pushed onto his back and kissed… everywhere. Nines straddled him in one swift movement and then both were lost to the world. 

Arching his back and biting down hard on his lower lip, Nines decided that this was the pinnacle of existence. Morning head. An absent-minded kiss on the way out the door. A reminder to actually look at his system health alerts rather than dismissing them automatically. Being fucked so beautifully that the world ceased to exist. And fucking so beautifully that a whole new world came into existence. A police car idling outside the Town Council. The clink of a house key falling out of a plastimetal hand into one of flesh and blood. Love. Compatibility. Shared beliefs. Similar anxieties. Bonding. Sex. Passion. The fusion of two halves of a whole. The multicoloured glow of an LED reflected in crinkled grey eyes. And someday… soon… two identical bands of silver. Nines freely allowed the preconstructions to play out in his mind. His hands were splayed out on Gavin’s chest and the LED was approaching the teal colour once more. As it eventually did, his entire skin retracted for one glorious microsecond. The exclusive privilege of such an otherworldly and erotic sight threw Gavin over the edge too. Synchronous moans filled the bedroom, the rest of the house,  _ but hopefully not the street outside. _ Eventually, Nines pushed himself off Gavin and flopped down beside him. His pale skin was flushed a light blue. The LED, a median cyan. He stared up at the ceiling and pondered whether to share what had just transpired in his head… and the immediate decision to sync his system clock with the pulse of the man lying next to him. Gavin curled into his side and pressed his lips to the underside of his jaw. It seemed… that he probably already knew all of that, so Nines closed his eyes and slipped once more into stasis. As usual, first, there would be nothing. And then, there would be everything he would want to live for, and more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who are curious, Nines has tarot cards tattooed on the backs of his hands, and "The Winged Victory of Samothrace" inked on his chest. He also has important dates and numbers all over his arms. Please feel free to imagine any other interesting designs he may have elsewhere on his body... I know that Gavin does and regularly asks for new additions.

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Reader,
> 
> Thank you so much for taking the time to drop by this fic. It has been a first for me in many ways. My first work, and first form of active participation in any fandom. I usually only admire works from afar, but this time, I was so thoroughly moved by the artistry of Detroit: Become Human, and the beauty of its fandom, that I was compelled to make my own contribution. 
> 
> Believe it or not, I've never played a video game in my life. One fine day, I happened to chance upon the fanfilm "Detroit Evolution" by Octopunk Media on YouTube. It was so spectacularly well-written and performed, that I enjoyed it without knowing anything of the source material it was based on. I then did my research and fell down the rabbit hole of watching DBH gameplay videos (some lovely soul has uploaded a huge movie-like compilation of the game scenes on YT). The premise of the story, the depth of characters, and everything really... was so incredibly fascinating. So I delved deeper into the fandom and works that have been produced over the two years since the game's release, and about a month later, I've arrived on AO3's doorstep with a fic about the thoroughly beloved RK900 android navigating his new world. 
> 
> I wrote his thought processes and disposition, based very much on my own, and am very happy to share this with the world. 
> 
> Much love to anyone and everyone reading this,  
> M


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